THE    SPANIARD    AT    HOME 


.THE 

SPANIARD  AT  HOME 

BY 

MARY  F.  NIXON  -ROULET 

AUTHOR    OF    "WITH    A    PESSIMIST    IN    SPAIN/'    "OUR    LITTLE 

SPANISH    COUSIN,"    "GOD,    THE    KING,    MY 

BROTHER,"    ETC.,    ETC. 


ILLUSTRATED    WITH    PHOTOGRAPHS    AND 
ORIGINAL   DRAWINGS 


CHICAGO 
A.  C.  McCLURG   &   CO, 

1910 


Copy  RIGHT 
A.    C.    McCLURG    &    CO. 

1910 
Published  October  15,  1910 


Entered  at  Stationers'  Hall,  London,  England 


THE  UNIVERSITY  PRESS,  CAMBRIDGE,  TT.  S.  A. 


TO 

DR.  ALFRED  DE  ROULET 
AMIGO  COMERADO,  Y  MARIDO 


268423 


"7n  a  strange  land 

Kind  things,  however  trivial,  reach  the  heart, 
And  through  the  heart,  the  head,  clearing  away 
The  narrow  notions  that  grow  up  at  home, 
And  in  their  place  grafting  good  will  to  aM." 


PREFACE 

THE  SPANIARD  AT  HOME  was  written 
with  the  desire  of  portraying  Spain  of  to-day 
as  she  really  is.  Many  books  have  described 
Spanish  cities,  castles,  and  churches.  Others  have 
discussed  Spanish  manners,  customs,  and  institutions 
as  they  appear  to  a  casual  observer,  with,  in  many 
cases,  little  sympathetic  understanding  of  that  Latin 
temperament  which  is  responsible  for  the  development 
of  Spanish  institutions. 

The  author  has  spent  much  time  in  Spain  and  has 
among  the  Spanish  people  many  warm  friends  to 
whom  she  is  indebted  for  hospitality  and  kindness. 
She  wishes  to  express  her  thanks  for  the  kindly  interest 
and  suggestions  received  from  Don  Fernando  Staud  y 
Ximinez,  Senor  Jose  Ignacio  del  Rosario  y  Valdezco 
and  Senor  Antonio  Sanchez,  and  the  assistance  and 
sympathetic  criticism  of  Dr.  Alfred  de  Roulet. 

"The  Spaniard  at  Home"  is  written  from  the  stand- 
point of  the  Spaniard  himself  and  the  opinions  expressed 
as  to  institutions  and  customs  peculiar  to  the  country, 
are  in  all  instances  bona  fide  expressions  of  the  purely 
Spanish  point  of  view. 

MARY  R  NIXON-ROULET 

CHICAGO 

July,  1910 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  PAGE 

I  INFANCY  AND  CHILDHOOD 13 

II  COURTSHIP  AND  MARRIAGE 29 

III  WOMEN  AND  FAMILY  LIFE 44 

IV  PECULIAR  PEOPLE  AND  CUSTOMS 59 

V  FETES  AND  FESTAS 82 

VI  AMUSEMENTS 119 

VII  SOCIETY 131 

VIII  CHURCH  AND  CHARITY 152 

IX  CONTRADICTIONS  OF  SPANISH  CHARACTER 174 

X  FOLK  LORE  AND  PROVERBS 193 

XI  ANDALUCIANS 209 

XII  NORTHERN  TYPES 223 

XIII  EDUCATION 249 

XIV  LITERATURE  AND  THE  FINE  ARTS 285 

XV  INDUSTRIES  301 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

Frolic  after  the  Wedding Frontispiece 

PAGE 

La  Casa  Granda 18 

Infant  Christ  (Murillo) 19 

The  Spanish  Marriage  (Fortuny) 30 

Education  of  the  Virgin  (Murillo) 31 

Pelando  el  Paro  (Alfred  de  Roulet) 40 

With  Quaint  Old-time  Jars  upon  their  Shoulders 41 

Fatima 46 

Awaiting  the  Fete 47 

The  Lovers  of  Teruel 50 

Blessed  Virgin  with  Jewelled  Embroideries,  Zaragoza    ...  51 

A  Spanish  Inn  (Fortuny) 60 

El  Sereno  (Alfred  de  Roulet) 61 

The  Market  Place  at  the  Gates  of  Seville 68 

Mosaics  from  the  Cathedral  at  Cordova 69 

Superbly  Carved  Stalls  in  the  Cathedral  of  Cordova  ....  72 

The  Fountain  of  Cybele 73 

A  Religious  Procession 94 

A  Woman  of  Seville  (Alfred  de  Roulet) 95 

A  Spanish  Dancer 120 

Peasants  of  the  Huerta 121 

The  Supreme  Moment 126 

Placing  the  Banderillas 126 

ix 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

PAGE 

Springs  Lightly  over  the  Horns  of  El  Toro 126 

The  Picador 127 

The  King  of  Spain  and  the  Prince  of  the  Asturias     .     .     .     .  132 

Her  Majesty  the  Queen  of  Spain 133 

Maria  Christina,  Dowager  Queen  of  Spain 142 

The  Throne  Room,  Madrid 143 

The  Village  Cura 154 

A  Village  Funeral 155 

Cloister  and  Patio  of  Burgos  Cathedral 164 

A  Pordiosero  (Alfred  de  Roulet) 165 

Interior  of  Cordova  Cathedral 182 

The  Escorial „ 183 

Gil  the  Milkman 198 

"I  promised  you  one  prisoner.     Behold  !  I  bring  two  !".     .     .  199 

The  Passing  of  Su  Majestad 214 

A  Wayside  Shrine  (Alfred  de  Roulet) 215 

The  Gate  of  the  Mihrab,  Cordova 224 

Stage  Travel  in  Northern  Spain 225 

A  Young  Peasant  (Alfred  de  Roulet) 232 

A  Maragata  (Alfred  de  Roulet) 233 

Patio  of  the  Casa  de  Zaporta 240 

Coronation  of  the  Virgin  (Velasquez) 241 

Memorial  Chapel  of  the  Marquis  de  Comillas    ..,,..  250 

College  at  Santander 251 

The  Red  Tower  of  the  Vela,  Alhambra 262 

At  the  Gates  of  the  Alhambra 263 

Hall  of  the  Ambassadors,  Alhambra 272 

Court  of  Myrtles,  Alhambra 273 

Surrender  of  the  Moors  at  Granada  (Francisco  Pradilla)     .     .  282 

Court  of  Lions,  Alhambra 283 

A  Spanish  Woman  (Goya) 290 

x 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

PAGE 

A  Modern  Carmen 291 

Azulajos  of  the  Alhambra 298 

The  Cathedral  of  Zaragoza 299 

At  the  Well 310 

In  the  Pyrenees 311 


XI 


THE  SPANIARD  AT  HOME 


CHAPTER    I 

INFANCY   AND    CHILDHOOD 

THE  servant  of  Don  Pepe  stalks  proudly  down 
the  street  bearing  a  fowl,  a  flask  of  wine,  and  a 
bar  of  chocolate,  and  every  one  is  eager  with  curi- 
osity—  not  venomous,  but  friendly;  for  in  Spain 
every  one  is  interested  in  every  one  else.  When  he 
stops  at  the  house  of  Senor  Sanchez  it  is  evident  to  all 
that  an  angel  has  passed  that  way  and  that  a  little 
stranger  has  come  from  heaven. 

"  How  fortunate  they  are  to  have  secured  Don 
Pepe  for  godfather!  "  one  says;  and  another,  "  Their 
child  may  look  for  advancement  now!  "  The  matter 
of  godparents  in  Spain  is  a  serious  business,  at  least 
for  the  godparents.  The  relationship  involves  not 
only  spiritual  matters,  but  temporal  as  well,  and  the 
parents  plan  carefully  for  their  children,  that  they 
may  have  the  advantage  of  the  best  attention  in  this 
direction.  A  godfather's  responsibility  in  Spain  does 
not  consist  in  presenting  a  silver  cup  at  baptism  and 
a  pearl  rosary  at  confirmation.  He  attends  to  these 

13 


\ 


THE    SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

courtesies,  it  is  true,  but  there  are  other  tangible 
proofs  of  his  relationship.  If  he  be  wealthy,  there  are 
handsome  presents  for  his  nino  on  his  name  day,  on 
New  Year's  Day,  and  all  feasts,  and  upon  the  occa- 
sion of  the  first  tooth.  Not  only  does  the  baby  have 
a  jewel  then,  or  some  handsome  gift,  but  his  ama 
(nurse)  is  remembered  with  a  bright  gold  doubloon 
( sixteen .  dollars ) . 

When  a  child  is  expected,  the  mother  studies  a  list 
of  all  her  friends  and  relatives  and  decides  which  will 
be  the  best  to  stand  for  her  little  one.  Having  se- 
lected the  happy  man,  her  husband  requests  him  to 
stand  for  the  expected  heir,  and,  his  consent  having 
been  obtained  (it  would  be  very  bad  manners  to 
refuse  and  would  bring  bad  luck  upon  the  baby!),  he 
is  the  first  to  be  informed  of  the  advent  of  the  "  visitor 
from  heaven."  He  immediately  responds  with  a 
present  of  wine,  chickens,  and  chocolate,  these  being 
the  first  things  a  woman  in  childbed  is  allowed  to  eat. 
They  must  be  of  the  choicest  his  purse  will  allow. 
If  he  is  wealthy,  he  will  send  the  costliest  amontillado, 
milk-fed  capons,  and  an  immense  bar  of  chocolate  of 
the  finest  quality.  Nothing  is  too  good  for  the 
mother ;  indeed,  there  is  a  saying  in  Spain,  when  some 
morsel  of  food  is  especially  delicious,  that  it  is  "  good 
enough  for  a  woman  after  confinement." 

The  nino  arrives,  and  finding  his  welcome  awaiting, 
smiles  at  the  world  which  seems  so  well  pleased  with 


INFANCY    AND    CHILDHOOD 

his  arrival.  What  a  charming,  chubby,  little  black- 
eyed  thing  he  is,  this  little  Spanish  baby,  and  how 
everybody  loves  him!  There  is  no  race  suicide  in 
Spain.  Large  families  are  the  rule,  though  there  are 
not  many  who  can  boast  of  quite  as  many  descend- 
ants as  one  Lucas  Saez,  who  had  "  thirty-seven  chil- 
dren, seventy-nine  grandchildren,  and  eighty-one 
great-grandchildren  when  his  eldest  son  was  seventy 
years  old." 

Little  Fernando  or  Juan  must  next  be  christened, 
and  this  is  a  great  event,  not  only  in  his  little  *lif e,  but 
in  that  of  all  the  family.  If  he  lives  in  town,  there  is 
a  gathering  of  all  the  family  friends  and  a  pleasant 
feast.  Should  it  be,  perchance,  the  heir  of  a  noble 
family  who  is  to  be  made  a  Christian,  and  should  the 
festa  take  place  at  the  country  home,  it  is  a  scene 
never  to  be  forgotten. 

Early  in  the  morning  the  guests  begin  to  arrive 
in  all  manner  of  equipages,  from  the  modest  tartana, 
or  two-wheeled  gig,  up  to  the  stately  four-in-hand; 
and  on  mounts  ranging  from  the  sedate  mule  of  the 
priest  of  the  next  parish,  to  the  superb  carcel  of  the 
young  noble  of  an  adjoining  estate.  About  the  Casa 
Solenega  buzzes  a  swarm  of  poor  people,  their  chil- 
dren, and  neighbors,  all  perhaps  self-invited  guests, 
who  are  there  because  the  parents  or  the  padrino  of 
the  baby  are  rich  enough  to  make  this  a  festa  grande 
which  all  would  like  to  see.  How  eagerly  they  await 

15 


THE    SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

the  forming  of  the  procession!  At  last  it  is  time,  and 
first  there  appears  the  montero,  or  guard  of  the  dis- 
trict, in  his  smartest  uniform,  although  he  is  there  in 
unofficial  capacity.  He  is  followed  by  all  the  invited 
young  men  mounted  upon  their  horses,  each  gay 
cavalier  secretly  touching  spur  to  his  steed  to  make 
him  curvet  and  caracole.  These  are  followed  by  a 
closed  carriage,  drawn  by  four  horses,  and  containing 
the  all-important  baby  in  the  arms  of  his  nurse,  and 
under  the  argus  eyes  of  an  aunt,  or  padrino*  and 
madrina.^  Following,  comes  another  four-horse  equi- 
page containing  the  father  and  near  relatives,  after 
which  the  remainder  of  the  guests  follow  in  all  man- 
ner of  conveyances.  The  rear  guard  is  formed  of  the 
male  population  of  the  surrounding  farms,  and  these 
march  two  by  two,  slow  and  stately,  to  the  nearest 
village;  for  no  matter  how  great  the  baby's  family, 
he  must  be  christened  in  a  paroquia,  or  parish  church, 
just  the  same  as  the  child  of  any  laborer. 

In  the  village  is  all  the  abandon  of  a  holiday.  All 
the  world  is  there  with  his  wife,  and  congregates  on 
the  plaza  to  witness  the  cavalcade's  approach.  Upon 
reaching  the  plaza,  the  guests  enter  the  church  first, 
each  being  given  a  lighted  taper,  and  all  forming  in 
double  file  while  the  chief  actors  in  the  play  enter. 
The  baby  is  in  the  arms  of  his  godfather,  at  whose 
side  walks  the  godmother;  the  aunt  gives  sundry  fin- 

*  Godfather.  f  Godmother. 

16 


INFANCY    AND    CHILDHOOD 

ishing  touches  to  the  baby's  tucks  and  frills;  and 
lights,  guests,  madrina,  padrino,  and  baby  move 
slowly  down  the  aisle  to  the  altar  to  the  sometimes 
inharmonious  sounds  of  the  church  organ,  and  Senor 
Bebe,  little  pagan,  makes  his  triumphal  entry  into 
the  Catholic  world.  At  the  font  he  gurgles  and  goos, 
pleased  with  the  lights  and  the  fact  that  he  is  so  evi- 
dently the  centre  of  attraction;  he  objects,  however, 
to  the  cold  water,  and  roars  lustily,  at  which  madrina 
smiles,  well  pleased,  for  she  knows  that  the  "  enemy  " 
has  gone  out  of  him  and  was  roaring  at  the  touch  of 
holy  water. 

It  is  over;  the  mite  of  humanity  is  a  Christian, 
and  the  last  Amen  has  awakened  a  perfect  babel  in 
the  plaza.  Gone  is  the  decorous  quiet  of  a  few  min- 
utes before,  and  the  whole  square  is  full  of  children, 
ready  for  their  pound  of  flesh.  Nobody  could  im- 
agine there  were  so  many  children  in  the  village,  but 
they  swarm  about  the  portal,  knowing  well  that 
something  pleasant  awaits  them.  The  godfather's 
pockets  fairly  bulge  with  coppers,  or  it  may  even  be 
with  reals,,  and  comfits  are  ready  to  rain  down,  while 
the  godmother  and  the  other  guests  are  not  behind 
the  padrino  in  their  presents.  As  the  church  bells 
chime  out  the  joyful  news,  the  children  send  up  lusty 
shouts.  Then  what  a  battle  royal  there  is!  What 
is  Sagunto,  Zaragoza,  or  Alcantara  to  this  battle 
which  takes  place  upon  the  peaceful  plaza,  on  the 

17 


THE    SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

church  steps,  under  the  carriages,  beneath  the  very 
feet  of  the  horses,  as  the  little  folk  scamper  hither 
and  yon  at  the  showers  of  centimes  which  rain  on  the 
stone  pavements!  At  last,  happy,  smiling,  and  dirty, 
the  youngsters  stand  aside  to  let  the  carriages  pass; 
and  young  and  old  shout  vivas  to  the  new  baby,  as 
they  receive,  one  and  all,  invitations  to  the  christen- 
ing festa. 

When  the  house  is  reached  the  padrino  takes  the 
baby  to  the  estrada,  where  the  mother  awaits  them, 
and  the  guests  follow,  all  whose  rank  entitles  them 
to  pass  within  the  inner  portals  of  the  Casa  Solenega, 
and  the  padrino  wishes  that  he  had  been  selected  for 
a  less  important  role.  He  is  the  observed  of  all  ob- 
servers; for  he  must  make  a  speech,  and  it  is  a  for- 
midable occasion.  He  clears  his  throat  vigorously, 
anxious  to  do  honor  to  the  new  godchild.  Ever  since 
the  news  had  been  brought  to  him  that  he  had  a 
"  new  servant/'  he  has  been  pondering  that  speech 
and  hoping  that  an  inspiration  of  the  moment  would 
lend  him  brilliancy,  but  now  his  tongue  refuses  to 
utter  the  clever  things  he  had  thought  of,  and  he  says 
simply : 

"  Comadre,  here  I  bring  to  you  a  new  Christian. 
May  God  keep  him  and  you  for  many  years;  but 
in  the  unfortunate  case  that  the  nino  should  find  him- 
self an  orphan,  I  will  be  his  sustenance,  morally  and 
materially,  in  accordance  with  the  solemn  vow  which 

18 


La  Casa  Granda 


Infant  Christ  (Murillo) 


INFANCY    AND    CHILDHOOD 

I  have  pronounced.  If  something  should  happen  to 
me,  here,  then,  is  the  madrina  who  will  take  my  place. 
God  bless  you  all!  "  Then  he  sits  down  amidst  gen- 
eral smiles,  and  tears  on  the  part  of  the  ladies,  though 
the  padrino  himself  sees  not  at  all  what  there  has  been 
in  his  speech  to  cause  either  grief  or  laughter.  The 
madrina  tries  to  speak,  but  there  is  a  lump  in  her 
throat  of  such  dimensions  that  she  seals  her  promise 
by  kissing  the  baby  and  his  mother. 

"  A  la  mesa! JJ  cries  the  proud  father,  and  all  ad- 
journ to  the  dining-room  where  a  fine  breakfast  is 
awaiting  them  —  all  but  the  mother  and  baby,  who 
rest  in  the  estrada. 

Such  a  delicious  breakfast!  First  there  are  olives, 
anchovies,  and  radishes,  followed  by  sparkling  amon- 
tillado.  The  next  course  is  consomme  en  tasse  with 
sherry,  after  which  come  croquettes,  generally  of 
chicken,  and  served  with  vegetables,  peas  or  beans, 
with  which  claret  is  drunk.  An  entree  follows,  per- 
haps artichokes  stuffed  with  forcemeat  and  served  in 
oil,  and  then  the  piece  de  resistance,  which  in  Spain 
is  generally  game.  Lamb  is  sometimes  eaten  but 
roast  beef  almost  never,  although  pot  roasts  are  often 
used.  The  reason  the  Spanish  prefer  pot  roasting 
to  our  fashion  of  oven  roasting  is,  that  there  are  few 
ovens  in  Spain.  Nearly  all  the  cooking  is  done  over 
charcoal,  and  when  regular  roasts  are  wanted,  as  at 
Christmas  or  some  feast  day,  the  joint  or  fowl  is  sent 

19 


THE    SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

to  the  baker,  who  has  a  wonderful  oven,  and  he  roasts 
it  for  the  family,  returning  it  browned  to  a  turn  just 
in  time  for  dinner.  It  is  an  amusing  sight  upon 
feast  days  to  see  the  baker's  shop,  each  bird  tagged 
with  the  owner's  name.  A  fat  goose  is  labelled 
"  Senor  Fernandez  ";  a  capon,  "  Senora  Guzman  "; 
a  duck,  "Don  Juan  de  Gonzalez";  and  a  plump 
partridge,  "  Senorita  Perez."  After  the  roast  come 
the  sweets,  turnovers  with  wine  sauce,  and  fruit  with 
sweet  wine,  and  last  of  all,  coffee. 

Then  Senor  Bebe  is  to  be  toasted,  and  a  pretty 
ceremony  to  be  performed.  The  majordomo  ap- 
proaches with  a  silver  salver  on  which  is  a  silver  or 
cut-glass  wine-cup,  and  this  is  filled  to  the  brim  with 
sparkling  wine,  when,  followed  by  all,  he  passes  into 
the  retrado  and  offers  the  glass  to  the  mother,  the 
father  standing  at  her  side.  The  padrino,  whose 
tongue  has  by  this  time  been  loosened,  makes  a  pretty 
toast,  all  touch  glasses  with  the  Senor  and  Senora, 
drinking  to  the  baby's  health.  And  thus  ends  the 
feast. 

Downstairs  in  the  servants'  quarters  much  jollity 
obtains,  and  to  the  feast  are  bidden  the  coachmen, 
hostlers,  lackeys,  and  maids.  These  enjoy  a  repast 
no  less  splendid  in  their  opinion  than  that  sei  yed  up- 
stairs, with  sheep  and  lambs  and  a  whole  cask  of  vino 
anejo  reserved  for  this  occasion.  All  are  well  satis- 
fied, and  they  recount  to  the  visiting  servants  and 

20 


INFANCY    AND    CHILDHOOD 

retainers  all  the  virtues  of  the  family,  which  gain 
weight  with  each  draft  of  wine.  The  Senor  Bebe 
is  toasted  and  re-toasted  until  brown,  and  his  entree 
into  the  Christian  world  is  made  with  such  a  halo  of 
blessings,  that  it  is  small  wonder  that  Spanish  babies 
are  such  pleasant  little  mortals  as  little  Maria  or  Jose. 

All  Spanish  children  must  have  one  of  the  "  holy 
names,"  and  no  matter  how  many  more  may  follow, 
for  father,  mother,  godmother,  aunt,  grandfather, 
feast  day,  or  what  the  other  names  may  be.  There  is 
always  some  form  of  the  Virgin's  name  for  a  girl  and 
usually  for  a  boy,  though  he  may  have  St.  Joseph 
for  his  name  saint.  Little  girls  are  Maria  Augustia, 
Immaculata,  Dolores,  Del  Pilar,  or  de  la  Concep- 
cion,  though  in  ordinary  parlance  they  are  known  as 
Augustia,  Immaculata,  Pilar,  Concha,  or  Dolita.  If 
you  ask  a  little  boy  his  name,  he  will  respond  politely, 
"  Enrique,  to  serve  God  and  you,"  but  in  reality  his 
name  is  more  likely,  "  Enrique  Maria  Jose  Juan 
Fernando  Diego  Francisco,"  and  nobody  knows  how 
much  more. 

Babies  are  well  tended  in  Spain.  The  mothers 
of  the  lower  classes  nurse  their  own  children,  and  are  t 
seldom  seen  without  their  little  ones.  A  Seville  fruit- 
vender  carries  her  baby  in  her  arms  or  perched  upon 
the  donkey's  back,  smiling  among  the  flowers  and 
fruit  of  the  panniers;  and  even  the  tobacco-workers 
work  with  a  cradle  at  their  side,  one  foot  on  the 


THE    SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

rocker.  Women  of  the  upper  class  have  an  ama  for 
the  nina,  or  nino,  but  supervise  the  care  of  the  baby. 
The  ladies  of  Madrid  do  not  consider  it  good  form  to 
nurse  their  own  children;  for  this  purpose  the  As- 
turian  peasant  women  are  considered  the  best.  They 
are  handsome,  well-grown  creatures,  who  leave  their 
own  babies  at  home  in  the  provinces,  and  come  to  the 
capital  to  act  as  wet  nurses  for  the  children  of  the 
nobility.  They  are  generally  passionately  attached 
to  their  foster  children;  not  so  much  so,  however, 
as  the  women  of  the  country  estates,  who  nurse  the 
children  of  the  lord  of  the  estate.  These  have  an  al- 
most feudal  attachment  for  the  young  lord,  and  the 
foster  brothers  are  devoted  to  each  other. 

The  ama  rules  the  house.  She  is  absolutely  the 
head  of  the  whole  establishment,  and  whatever  she 
says  is  law.  Upon  her  well-being  depends  the  well- 
being  of  King  Baby,  and  she  has  the  best  of  every- 
thing. Once  a  day  she  receives  a  visit  from  the 
family  physician,  the  carriage  is  always  at  her  service 
for  the  daily  airing,  the  most  nourishing  food  is  pre- 
pared for  her,  and  even  the  mistress  of  the  house  is 
her  slave. 

When  the  necessity  for  the  foster-mother  is  no  more, 
the  boy  baby  is  cared  for  by  his  ayo,  the  man  ser- 
vant set  apart  for  his  service;  and  a  little  girl's  ay  a 
has  charge  of  her.  The  peasant  children,  of  course, 
have  none  of  these  attentions.  Nursed  at  the  loving 


INFANCY    AND    CHILDHOOD 

breasts  of  their  own  mothers,  left  to  toddle  around 
in  the  sun,  careless,  happy,  tanned,  rosy,  the  pret- 
tiest children  in  the  world  are  the  children  of  the 
people,  those  Andalucian  ninos  whom  Murillo  loved 
to  paint. 

As  the  boy  and  girl  outgrow  babyhood,  the  watch- 
ful care  of  them  is  not  relaxed.  The  little  girl  of  the 
upper  class  has  a  governess  until  she  goes  to  the  con- 
vent school;  she  learns  to  read  and  write,  knows  a 
little  arithmetic,  is  taught  to  paint  and  embroider 
exquisitely,  and  later  to  sing  and  play  delightfully, 
and  to  have  a  fair  knowledge  of  Spanish  literature 
and  history,  and  an  excellent  knowledge  of  the  cat- 
echism. Is  not  that  enough  for  any  doncellita?  With 
a  boy  it  is  quite  different.  Fernando  or  Diego  goes 
to  school  and  studies  hard.  Kindergarten  methods 
have  not  been  adopted  with  any  enthusiasm  in  Spain; 
boys  go  to  school  to  work  and  not  to  play. 

When  a  boy  of  the  upper  class  is  seven  or  eight, 
his  days  are  planned  for  him  about  as  follows:  He 
rises  at  half  past  seven,  while  the  bells  in  the  churches 
are  calling  good  Catholics  to  mass.  After  morning 
prayers,  which  his  nurse  has  taught  him  carefully,  he 
has  his  morning  bath  and  is  dressed.  He  is  some- 
thing of  a  dandy,  and  has  early  learned  to  spruce  him- 
self up  well,  for  he  must  pass  the  inspection  not  only 
of  the  aya,  but  also  the  argus  eyes  of  mamma,  to 
whom  he  gives  a  hearty  good-morning  kiss  as  he  goes 

23 


THE     SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

to  breakfast.  This  is  a  simple,  wholesome  meal  with 
cereals,  generally  in  the  form  of  bread  and  semule, 
with  warm  milk,  honey,  and  eggs. 

Shortly  after  breakfast  his  ayo  comes  to  take  him 
to  school,  where  he  studies  until  twelve,  when  the 
schoolboys  have  dinner  together,  a  good  dinner  of 
soup,  vegetables,  and  dessert,  with  milk  and  water 
to  drink.  There  is  no  butter,  coffee,  or  tea 
served  to  children  in  Spain,  though  they  are  allowed 
to  have  chocolate.  After  dinner  comes  a  rest  and 
play-time  till  one  o'clock,  and  then  study  again  until 
half  past  four,  when  the  ayo  comes  to  take  the  boy 
for  an  outing.  He  may  go  anywhere  he  likes  that  is 
a  proper  place  for  boys;  the  man  servant  knows  all 
that  is  going  on  and  will  see  that  his  little  master 
sees  every  Punch-and-Judy  show  in  town.  If  there 
is  no  special  excitement,  off  they  go  to  the  paseo, 
where  are  the  boys  of  the  town,  and  where  there  are 
wonderful  games  to  be  played,  chief  of  which  is  the 
torero;  for  Spanish  boys  dearly  love  to  play  bull- 
fight, one  with  a  basket-work  arrangement  on  his 
head  being  the  bull,  who  is  chased  by  the  boys  and 
whom  in  turn  he  butts  with  bovine  zeal.  All  manner 
of  boys  are  here,  for  the  gentlemen's  sons  mix  freely 
with  hoi  polloi,  since  monarchial  Spain  is  the  most 
democratic  country  in  the  world.  Boys  and  girls  are 
allowed  to  play  together  in  Spain,  though  one  never 
sees  there  the  kissing  games  which  American  children 


INFANCY    AND    CHILDHOOD 

frequently  indulge  in  until  old  enough  to  know 
better. 

Spanish  children's  games  are  quaint  and  pretty, 
and  nearly  all  have  rhymes  and  songs  attached  to 
them.  One  of  the  prettiest  is  <c  Ambo,  ato"  and  it 
is  played  in  the  following  spirited  manner.  The 
sprites  form  a  circle,  and  in  the  centre  stands  one  who 
must  choose  a  mate.  They  sing 

"  Ambo,  ato,  materile,  rile,  rile, 

Ambo,  ato,  materile,  rile,  ron, 

What  do  you  want,  materile,  rile,  rile  ? 

What  do  you  want,  materile,  rile,  ron  ?  " 
"I  want  a  page,  materile,  rile,  rile, 

I  want  a  page,  materile,  rile  ron." 

The  one  who  is  "  It "  is  then  told  to  choose  whom 
she  will;  and,  alas  for  Spanish  chivalry!  when  she 
chooses  Pedro  or  Gill,  the  question  is, 

"  What  will  you  give  him,  materile,  rile,  rile, 
What  will  you  give  him,  materile,  rile,  ron  ?  " 

When  she  holds  out  an  orange  or  a  flower,  the  rec- 
reant steps  forth  to  be  her  page,  and  the  circle  dances 
around  the  two,  singing  lustily.  Another  favorite 
with  very  little  girls  is  "  Tintarella,"  which  is  played 
by  two  tiny  maidens  taking  hold  of  hands  and,  toe 
to  toe,  whirling  round  as  fast  as  they  can,  singing 
gaily, 

"  Tintirenella,  if  you  please, 
Tintirenella,  bread  and  cheese, 
25 


THE    SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

What  is  your  worshipful  father's  name  ?  " 
'Sir  Red  Pepper,  who  kisses  your  hands." 
"  And  how  does  he  call  his  beautiful  dame  ?  " 
"  Lady  Cinnamon,  at  your  commands." 
'  Tintirenella,  toe  to  toe, 
Tintirenella,  round  we  go." 

"  London  Bridge  is  falling  down  "  is  to  the  little 
Spaniards  "Rose  and  Pink";  and  the  "Shaker 
Dance"  is  "San  Sereno."  The  Saint  is  apostro- 
phized as  "  San  Sereno  of  the  Mountain,"  and  each 
attribute  is  celebrated  in  verse. 

"  San  Sereno  of  the  Mountain, 
Our  saint  of  courtesy, 
I  as  a  good  Christian 
Will  fall  upon  my  knee. 

"  San  Sereno  of  the  Mountain, 
Where  the  strong  winds  pass, 
I  as  a  good  Christian 
Will  seat  me  on  the  grass. 

"  San  Sereno  of  the  Mountain, 
Where  the  white  clouds  fly, 
I  as  a  good  Christian, 
Upon  the  ground  will  lie. 

"  San  Sereno  of  the  Mountain, 
Where  earth  and  heaven  meet, 
I  as  a  good  Christian 
Will  spring  upon  my  feet." 

Each  verse  is  illustrated  by  the  little  singers  and  very 
prettily  acted. 

26 


INFANCY    AND    CHILDHOOD 

The  manners  of  the  children  are  the  most  charming 
imaginable.  They  have  caught  the  spirit  of  their  el- 
ders, and  their  gracious  courtesy  is  quaint  and  de- 
lightful. Admire  a  favorite  toy,  and  a  little  mite 
of  three  will  hand  it  to  you  instantly  with  a  gracious, 
"It  is  yours,  Senora!"  To  a  proffered  treat  a  boy 
will  not  say  "  Yes,"  but,  ee  Si,  senor,  con  mucho 
gusto."  If,  passing  on  the  Prado  a  ravishing  baby 
of  two  scant  summers,  you  remark,  "  What  a  dear 
little  tot!  "  he  will  astonish  you  very  much  by  saying 
with  shy  grace,  '  Es  favor  que  Fd.  me  hace  " ;  while 
even  boys  in  school  answer  to  roll  call,  "  Your  ser- 
vant, sir,"  instead  of  the  gruff  English,  "Here!" 
or,  "Present!" 

As  it  draws  near  to  the  Angelus,  the  boy's  mother 
drives  past  the  paseo  and  picks  him  up  for  a  ride 
home;  then  come  supper,  prayers,  and  bed  with 
happy  slumber.  Day  after  day  it  is  the  same,  but 
there  are  many  holidays,  —  the  feast  days  of  the 
family,  Christmas,  New  Year's  Day,  the  feast  of  the 
Magi,  when  Spanish  children  set  out  their  shoes  with 
a  wisp  of  straw  for  the  Magi's  horses,  and  next  morn- 
ing find  them  filled  with  gifts,  as  Americans  find 
their  stockings  at  Christmas  time.  Carnival  time  is 
a  season  of  great  joy,  as  is  Holy  Week  with  its  festas 
and  processions;  but  perhaps  the  time  the  boy  likes 
best  of  all  is  the  spring-time,  when  he  goes  to  the 
hacienda  and  attends  the  country  school,  where  he  is 

27 


THE    SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

the  wonder  of  the  country  boys.  Summer,  too,  he 
enjoys,  for  then  he  has  no  school,  but  only  a  few  pri- 
vate lessons  with  a  tutor,  —  languages,  music,  and 
drawing,  and  he  runs  wild  on  the  country  estate, 
tanned,  happy,  and  free. 


CHAPTER    II 

COURTSHIP  AND  MARRIAGE 

TIMES  are  changing  in  Spain,  and  courtship 
there  is  assuming  somewhat  modern  attributes. 
It  is  only  a  few  years  since  young  women  were 
guarded  with  a  jealousy  almost  Moorish.  The 
Tower  of  the  Princess  in  the  Alhambra  palace  of 
delights  still  stands  as  when  the  Moorish  father  con- 
fined there  his  three  daughters,  Zaide,  Zorade,  and 
Zorahaide,  lest  they  be  seen  of  men  and  so  ruin  their 
chances  of  matrimony.  The  grated  windows  and 
balconies  of  Spanish  houses  show  the  old  Moorish  at- 
titude of  mind  to  have  long  been  that  of  the  Span- 
iard. Even  in  the  present  generation  no  unmarried 
wroman  ever  goes  out  of  doors  unattended,  and  for  a 
Spanish  young  girl  to  be  alone  in  the  same  room  with 
a  young  man  would  be  to  lose  her  reputation  entirely. 
Spanish  parents  a  century  ago  did  not  wish  their 
daughters  to  learn  to  read  or  write,  lest  they  should 
read  love  stories  or  write  love  letters.  It  is  a  curious 
contradiction  of  Spanish  character  that  the  Spaniard 
seems  determined  to  make  it  just  as  difficult  as  pos- 
sible for  his  Daughter  to  marry,  yet  he  disapproves 

29 


THE    SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

most  emphatically  of  old  maids.  Every  young  girl 
grows  up  with  a  horror  of  being  "  counted  with  the 
pen  of  St.  Elias."  This  expression  arises  from  the 
legend  that  in  Holy  Week  every  year,  that  worthy 
saint  goes  around,  pen  in  hand,  gazing  at  the  bal- 
conies, and  making  a  list  of  all  the  old  maids  of  the 
village. 

Romance  dies  hard  in  the  breast  of  the  Latin, 
and  even  with  more  modern  conditions,  the  old 
style  of  courtship  still  prevails,  especially  in  Anda- 
lucia.  Young  girls  are  still  carefully  guarded,  and 
the  ardent  young  Spaniard  has  to  devise  ways  and 
means  in  which  to  foil  fate,  indulging  in  the  ques- 
tionable custom  of  placating  the  duenna  with  an  open 
palm.  More  romantic,  though  scarcely  less  ill- 
mannered  from  our  point  of  view,  he  expresses  audibly 
his  opinion  of  a  girl  on  the  street,  "  Que  buenos  ojos! 
Que  gracia  tienes!  "  *  This  does  not  in  the  least  an- 
noy la  Espagnolita.  It  is  not  to  her  an  impertinence. 
It  is  only  that  her  charms  have  met  with  their  due. 
She  has  been  admired  since  she  can  remember;  in- 
deed love  affairs  in  Spain  begin  almost  at  the  cradle. 
Even  urchins  of  ten  or  twelve  imitate  their  elders. 
Fulanitat  is  Fulanito's  sweetheart.  At  the  school 
door  he  waits  for  her,  and,  not  having  a  peseta  with 
which  to  cross  her  palm,  he  drives  distracted  the  staid 

*  What  beautiful  eyes !     What  a  perfect  figure  ! 
t  Diminutive,  "  Such  a  one." 


1 


Education  of  the   Virgin   (Murillo) 


COURTSHIP    AND   MARRIAGE 

duenna  who  has  replaced  the  little  girl's  ama,  and 
who  watches  over  her  just  as  closely  as  did  that 
trusted  servant.  Whenever  there  are  children's  par- 
ties, this  miniature  cavalier  dances  with  his  tiny 
sweetheart.  If  he  has  a  new  suit  of  clothes,  he  must, 
perforce,  pass  her  house  three  or  four  times  a  day, 
and  whenever  he  walks  behind  her,  he  always  speaks 
quite  loud  enough  for  her  to  hear.  He  watches 
closely  until  he  finds  out  to  what  mass  she  goes,  and 
then  spends  his  pennies  for  pomade  for  his  hair,  that 
he  may  appear  there  properly  groomed. 

The  tiny  maid  who  has  caught  his  fancy  is  per- 
fectly aware  of  his  attentions.  Very  early  is  the  trait 
of  coquetry  developed  in  the  little  woman  of  Spain. 
She  is  quite  as  interested  in  her  novio*  as  is  her 
elder  sister  in  her  own,  though  very  intolerant  of 
his  methods  of  showing  his  devotion.  She  would 
much  prefer  that  he  show  the  gallantry  of  his 
elders  and  run  to  pick  up  the  handkerchief  she 
drops,  aping  her  sister;  but  alas  for  romance!  he 
is  serenely  unconscious,  and  kicks  the  bit  of  linen 
into  the  gutter.  It  was  her  best  lace-edged  one, 
and  Madrecita  will  scold  her  severely  for  losing  it. 
This  so  rankles  in  her  feminine  breast  that,  after  the 
fashion  of  her  sex,  she  vents  her  injured  feelings 
upon  her  oblivious  cavalier,  and  surprises  that  aston- 
ished youngster  the  next  time  she  meets  him  by  turn- 

*  Sweetheart. 

31 


THE     SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

ing  away  her  head,  instead  of  smiling  in  return  to  his 
fatuous  grin. 

Fulanito's  older  brother  or  sister,  meantime,  is  en- 
gaged in  the  same  absorbing  play.  Fernando  per- 
haps caught  a  gleam  from  the  dark  eye  of  the  little 
Pepita  upon  the  rambla,  and  it  ensnared  him  forth- 
with. Ever  since,  he  has  followed  her  about  like  a 
faithful  dog,  gazing  at  her  with  his  great  black  eyes 
which  may  express  so  much,  and  watching  for  a 
chance  to  be  presented  to  the  lady  of  his  dreams. 
This  is  at  last  accomplished,  for  the  parents  of  the 
young  people  are  friends,  and  there  is  absolutely  no 
reason  why  the  two  should  not  be  acquainted,  except 
the  peculiarity  of  Spanish  custom,  which  insists  that 
all  young  women  be  watched  lest  they  meet  a  wolf 
in  man's  attire.  Fernando,  however,  is  a  very  gentle 
wolf,  and  his  next  move  is  to  "  bite  the  iron,"  or 
serenade  the  senorita,  though  this  is  difficult  to  do 
properly  and  elude  maternal  vigilance. 

Mamma  is  quite  as  much  afraid  that  her  Fernando 
will  fall  in  love,  as  the  mother  of  Pepita  fears  his 
attentions  for  her  little  daughter,  and  each  mother 
is  a  veritable  dragon  of  discretion.  To  be  sure  they 
are  not  always  logical.  Fernando's  mother,  in  talk- 
ing with  a  friend,  exclaims  upon  the  wickedness  of 
her  son. 

"  He  is  the  very  worst  boy  in  all  the  world.  He 
will  break  the  heart  of  his  mother,  he  is  so  wicked. 


COURTSHIP    AND   MARRIAGE 

I  am  consumed  with  pity  for  the  woman  who  lives  to 
marry  him!  " 

"It  is  indeed  too  bad!"  her  friend  replies  with 
suspicious  sympathy.  "  I  am  indeed  sorry  for  you, 
my  dear  friend!  It  was  only  yesterday  that  I  spoke 
of  this  with  the  mother  of  the  Senorita  Concepcion, 
the  pretty  little  one  who  has  so  many  lovers.  Her 
mother  said  that  Fernando  had  looked  at  Concep- 
cion upon  the  rambla,  and  that  it  pleased  her  not, 
for  thy  Fernando  was  a  graceless  youth.  To  this  I 
said  I  feared  he  would  break  thy  heart,  my  poor 
friend-  She  stopped  in  haste,  for  her  poor 
friend  had  risen  from  her  chair,  with  flaming  eyes 
and  cheeks  all  flushed. 

'Woman!"  she  cried  vehemently,  "are  you 
out  of  your  mind?  The  mother  of  Concepcion, 
indeed!  A  little,  thin,  ill- formed  slip  of  a  girl, 
as  brown  as  a  Cubana!  And  thou  hast  sym- 
pathized with  me !  Name  of  a  saint !  My  Fernando ! 
He  would  not  look  at  Concepcion  de  la  Vargas  with 
his  left  eye  alone!  He,  the  best  boy!  the  cleverest! 
the  most  loving!  He  will  live  to  be  the  Minister  of 
Finance!  He!  the  King's  brother!  And  you  speak 
against  the  character  of  that  angel!  Beast!  Depart 
from  my  house  before  I  forget  myself  and  speak  an 
impoliteness  to  you!"  and  she  bursts  into  a  fit  of 
violent  weeping  during  which  her  astonished  caller 
departs. 


THE    SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

Fernando  fully  appreciates  his  mother's  devotion, 
though  there  are  moments  when  he  wishes  it  were 
not  so  omniscient.  Every  night  she  pays  a  visit  to 
him  after  he  has  retired,  to  see  that  he  is  safely  tucked 
away  in  bed,  and  to  kill  the  mosquitoes  which  lurk 
within  his  chamber,  ready  to  devour  her  angel  while 
sleeping. 

His  heart  aflame  with  youthful  ardor  for  Pepita, 
Fernando  has  planned  otherwise  than  this  early  and 
sedate  retiring  insisted  upon  by  his  mother,  but  the 
word  of  la  madre  is  law  in  the  household,  and 
strategy  is  his  only  resource.  When  the  solicitous 
mother  arrives  in  his  bedchamber  to  kiss  him  good- 
night, and  to  perform  her  nightly  slaughter  for  his 
dear  sake,  she  finds  him  sleeping  sweetly,  too  sweetly, 
unsuspicious  mother,  —  such  ostentatious  sweetness! 
Up  to  his  very  chin  is  pulled  the  coverlet,  and  as  la 
madre  lifts  her  candle  and  sees  his  innocent  face,  she 
smiles,  well  pleased,  and  patting  him  gently  on  the 
black  velvet  hair,  she  murmurs  softly,  "  Buen  nino! " 
(good  boy).  The  mosquitoes  vanquished,  she  de- 
parts, but  the  danger  is  not  over,  for  the  paternal 
visit  is  yet  to  come,  and  to  pass  muster  under  the  in- 
spection of  his  own  sex  is  more  difficult.  Fernando, 
however,  is  a  born  actor,  and  has  thrown  himself  into 
the  part;  and  as  his  father  kills  more  mosquitoes,  the 
angelic  face  upon  the  pillow  is  innocent  as  that  of  a 
sleeping  babe.  At  last  parental  inspection  is  safely 


COURTSHIP    AND    MARRIAGE 

over,  and  el  padre  leaves  the  room  with  a  smile, 
thinking  that  his  boy  is  not  so  much  of  a  Don  Juan 
as  he  himself  was  in  his  youth. 

But  no  sooner  is  el  padre  gone  than  Fernando 
springs  from  his  bed  fully  dressed,  the  scamp !  ready 
to  tiptoe  downstairs,  his  guitar  in  one  hand,  his  shoes 
in  the  other.  But  dangers  lurk  below  as  well  as 
above  stairs,  for  there  is  the  rubicon  of  the  front  door 
to  be  passed.  Is  it  possible  to  draw  its  huge  bolt 
without  a  creak?  These  old-fashioned  creaking  bolts 
are  the  best  of  protection  against  nocturnal  ma- 
rauders. If  Marinella  has  proved  false,  then  all 
hopes  of  serenading  the  little  Pepita  are  over  for  this 
night.  But  Marinella  is  wise  in  her  day  and  genera- 
tion, and  she  has  not  failed  him.  In  her  barren 
breast,  affection  for  the  young  master  is  combined 
with  a  canny  devotion  to  her  own  interests,  and  this 
the  wily  Fernando  well  knows.  "  Marinella,"  he 
had  said  that  morning,  "  to-night  I  must  go  out  after 
the  bolt  is  shot.  Have  it  well  greased.  If  not,  I  will 
reveal  to  la  madre  all  as  to  thy  covered  basket." 

Now,  Marinella  knows  that  the  covered  basket,  in 
which  she  carries  but  a  change  of  linen  upon  her 
weekly  visits  to  her  home,  would  not  bear  inspection 
should  the  eagle  eye  of  the  mistress  fall  upon  it.  Of 
course  there  is  nothing  in  it  to  which  she  has  not  a 
perfect  right.  Marinella  is  strictly  honest.  She 
would  never  dream  of  taking  anything  which  did  not 

35 


THE    SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

belong  to  her.  But  who  could  be  expected  to  go 
home  to  the  mother  and  not  bring  a  little  bar  of  choc- 
olate, or  a  handful  of  sweet  cakes  to  the  godchild? 
The  mistress,  however,  might  think  differently,  and 
so  —  well  —  she  is  glad  to  oblige  the  young  master. 
To  be  sure,  she  owes  him  something  for  the  many 
tricks  he  has  played  upon  her,  but  boys  must  be  boys, 
and  though  so  mischievous,  he  is  of  a  good  heart.  It 
is  very  naughty  of  him  to  wish  to  deceive  his  mother, 
but  he  has  often  given  Marinella  a  parita  to  buy 
sweets,  and  then  —  how  mixed  are  motives  in  the 
feminine  breast !  —  the  mistress  takes  such  pride  in 
knowing  everything  that  goes  on  in  the  house ;  it  was 
but  yesterday  that  she  said,  "  From  the  sun's  first 
ray  to  the  ser end's  (night  watchman)  call,  nothing  can 
happen  in  my  house  that  my  two  eyes  do  not  see!  " 

So  naughty  Fernando  finds  the  bolt  oiled  and 
smooth  as  silk.  It  slips  with  ease,  and  he  is  soon  be- 
neath the  grating  of  his  sweetheart's  window,  ready 
to  engage  in  the  pastime  of  (f  pelando  el  paro " 
(plucking  the  turkey).  Will  she  be  kind?  He 
knows  not,  for  the  fair  Pepita  is  as  whimsical  as  she 
is  fair,  and  he  never  can  tell  whether  she  will  give  him 
a  ravishing  smile  or  fail  completely  to  see  him  when 
he  passes  on  the  rambla.  Fernando  leans  close 
against  the  wall,  wrapped  in  his  capa  like  a  cavalier 
of  old,  and  sings  with  that  show  of  feeling  which  is 
the  birthright  of  every  true  Spaniard.  He  looks 

36 


COURTSHIP    AND    MARRIAGE 

anxiously  at  the  grated  window.  Alas!  all  is  dark. 
No  flicker  of  candle-gleam  lightens  the  gloom.  She 
has  a  heart  of  stone,  this  little  Pepita  of  the  blue- 
black  eyes  and  the  hair  of  velvet.  Despair  gnaws 
at  his  very  heart.  She  is  not  for  him!  Shall  he  de- 
stroy that  worthless  life  which  she  scorns  when  laid 
at  her  feet?  It  grows  cold  and  the  air  steals  chill  and 
unkind  from  the  sierras,  snowy  and  cold  as  the  heart 
of  Pepita  herself,  and  Fernando  is  lightly  clad.  Be- 
sides, it  is  unflattering  to  his  vanity  to  troll  out 
love  ditties  to  a  darkened  window.  Pepita  is  not  the 
only  fair  one.  That  little  Dolores  Ximenez,  just  home 
from  the  convent,  she  smiled  upon  Fernando  when  he 
picked  up  her  fan,  and  between  red  lips  her  tiny  white 
teeth  gleamed  like  pomegranate  seeds  in  their  scarlet 
setting.  Still,  Pepita's  eyes  haunt  him,  her  coldness 
stirs  him  to  fresh  endeavor,  and  once  more  he  sings 
with  passion,  fervently,  yet  not  too  fervently,  lest  his 
dulcet  notes  arouse  from  slumber  the  senora,  her 
mother.  How  clear  and  sweet  rings  the  tenor  voice ! 


Los          o  -  jos          de     mi     cha-cha         son  muy  ne-gros 

^^jL^^M^^^^m 

y     lin  -  dos,  y     sus    dien-tes         son  muy  blan-cos, 

EgEJEp^H-^ 


^^    ~w 
blan-cos    co  -  mo          la      le  -  che.  Pe-ro  la     Ni  -fia 


THE     SPANIARD    AT    HOME 


no   me  quier-re, 


no     quier  -  re    mi   a    -    mor, 


y  sus 


dien-tes 


y     sus     o-jos         Ay,  no     son         pa  -  ra     mi. 


Oh  the  eyes  of  my  Pepita  are  so  dazzling  and  so  bright, 
And  her  teeth  have  such  a  lustre,  milk  was  never  half  so  white. 
But  my  darling  does  not  like  me,  my  love  she  doth  decline, 
And  her  teeth  and  her  bright  eyes,  they  never  can  be  mine. 

As  the  last  sweet  cadences  fall  on  the  moonlit  air, 
heaven  opens  to  Fernando!  A  gleam  of  light  comes 
from  the  darkened  room,  a  white  form  flits  across  the 
grating,  a  white  hand  waves  for  a  moment,  then  —  oh, 
rapture!  —  a  red  rose  drops  at  his  feet.  In  an  ecstasy 
he  carries  it  to  his  lips,  and,  the  smile  of  Dolores  all 
forgotten,  the  next  night  and  the  next  see  him  again 
against  the  wall  to  "  bite  the  iron  "  of  the  Senorita 
Pepita. 

/The  season  of  courtship  in  Spain  may  be  said  to 
be  distinctly  a  season  when  the  feminine  star  is  in  the 
ascendant.  Fascinating,  graceful,  animated,  the 
Spanish  doncellita  is  far  more  interesting  than  the 
red-cheeked  English  miss,  or  the  shy  French  made- 
moiselle with  the  convent  sanctity  still  upon  her.  Es- 
pagnolita*  is  a  born  coquette.  She  has  all  the  req- 
uisites for  beauty  according  to  the  old  Moorish  law, 

*  Little  Miss  Spaniard. 
38 


COURTSHIP    AND   MARRIAGE 

'  Three  times  three  things  a  woman  must  have: 
white  skin,  white  teeth,  and  white  hands ;  black  eyes, 
black  brows,  and  black  lashes;  rosy  lips,  rosy  cheeks, 
and  rosy  nails."  And  the  little  lady  of  Spain  knows 
how  to  employ  them  all  to  the  best  advantage.  Fully 
aware  of  her  charms,  la  nina  is  quite  able  to  use  them. 
Whatever  she  desires  she  "  buys  with  the  eyes,"  and 
the  smile  pays.  Her  lover's  extravagant  compli- 
ments she  calls  "  throwing  flowers,"  and  she  laughs 
at  his  ardent  speeches.  'What!  another  rose, 
senor?  Muy  gracias.  Or  was  this  a  carnation? 
You  meant  it  for  my  sister,  for  it  suits  not  my  com- 
plexion." 

Despite  Alarcon's  complaint  that  since  English 
education  came  into  Spain  there  is  not  a  maiden  who 
can  feel  true  love,  once  engaged,  the  Spanish  girl  is 
a  model  of  devotion.  All  the  fencing  of  courtship 
days  is  at  an  end.  The  jesting  strife  and  war  of 
wits  is  over.  Once  given,  she  regards  her  word  as 
irrevocable;  yet  she  seems  to  dread  the  actual  mar- 
riage day,  and  long  engagements  are  not  uncommon. 
Juan  Valera,  one  of  Spain's  keenest  novelists,  says: 

"The  interminable  engagements  of  Spain  are  the  most 
admirable  examples  of  mistaken  constancy  which  the  annals  of 
romance  otfers.  There  are  often  found  engagements  begun 
when  the  lovers  began  to  study  Latin  at  scfiool,  continued 
during  his  studies  in  law,  literature,  or  medicine,  terminating 
in  marriage  when  the  man  becomes  judge  of  the  lower  court  or 
a  successful  physician.  During  all  this  time  the  engaged 

39 


THE    SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

couple  write  to  each  other  when  they  are  separated ;  and  when 
they  are  in  the  same  town  they  see  each  other  at  mass  in  the 
mornings.  They  meet  two  or  three  times  again  during  the 
day,  chat  during  the  hour  of  the  siesta,  see  each  other  during 
the  hour  of  the  promenade,  go  to  the  same  party  in  the  even- 
ing. After  supper  they  see  each  other  and  chat  at  the  window ; 
and  there  are  nights  when  they  remain  once  more  chatting 
together,  their  faces  pressed  to  the  bars  until  rosy-fingered 
dawn  appears  in  the  east." 

Of  course  sudden  marriages  are  seldom  heard  of 
in  this  land  of  manana  where  everything  must  be 
done  decently  and  in  order,  and  the  expression  to 
"  make  time  "  means  to  kill  it  comfortably  for  your- 
self, not  regretting  its  loss  or  finding  it  tedious.  It 
is  told  of  a  man  in  a  provincial  town  that,  after  a  short 
engagement  of  eight  years,  he  married  and  forthwith 
passed  into  a  green  and  yellow  melancholy,  because, 
forsooth,  he  had  no  longer  any  way  to  "  make  time." 

While  young  Spaniards  are  both  ardent  and 
romantic,  marriages  are  frequently  arranged  for 
them  by  judicious  parents,  though  by  no  means  so 
frequently  as  in  France.  Generally,  these  are  ac- 
cepted calmly  and  turn  out  very  well,  but  they  need 
never  be  forced  upon  the  unwilling,  for  marriage 
laws  are  stringent  in  this  land  of  the  Dons.  If  Juliet 
prove  recalcitrant,  she  can  place  herself  under  the 
protection  of  the  magistrate  provided  for  such 
events. 

Romeo  can  not  marry  her  out  of  hand,  but  he  can 

40 


IVUndo  el  Paro   (Alfred  de   Roulet) 


With  Quaint  Old-time  Jars  upon  their  Shoulders 


COURTSHIP    AND    MARRIAGE 

prevent  her  being  married  to  any  one  else,  and  can, 
if  necessary,  remove  her  from  her  father's  house  and 
place  her  under  protection  until  she  is  of  age.  When 
a  girl  does  this  she  may  be,  and  generally  is,  most 
heartily  disapproved  of  by  public  sentiment;  and 
her  parents  usually  disown  her,  but  she  cannot  be  de- 
prived of  that  portion  of  the  family  property  which 
is  hers  by  law.  Custom,  however,  in  Spain  is  far 
stronger  than  the  law,  and  such  instances  of  feminine 
defiance  of  parental  authority  are  exceedingly  few 
and  far  between.  El  padre,  though  kind  and  indul- 
gent to  a  degree,  is  almost  feudal  in  his  absolutism, 
and  Dolores  or  Mercedes,  Milagros  or  Carmen,  knows 
full  well  that  she  must  sever  all  family  ties  should 
she  elect  to  brave  her  father's  displeasure  in  her 
marriage. 

A  story  is  told  of  a  general  in  the  Spanish  army, 
whose  daughter  bestowed  her  affections  upon  the 
general's  adjutant.  There  was  not  a  thing  against 
the  young  man's  character.  He  was  brave,  clever, 
and  of  suitable  rank.  The  family  autocrat,  however, 
was  scandalized  that  his  daughter  should  have  so  far 
thought  for  herself  as  to  fancy  a  young  man  whom 
her  father  had  not  suggested,  and  he  forbade  the 
match.  Tears,  protestations,  entreaties  were  of  no 
avail,  and  at  last  the  young  senorita  departed  and 
married  her  lover.  She  was  promptly  disowned ;  but 
she  had  the  bad  taste  to  appear  oblivious  to  this  dis- 

41 


THE     SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

aster  and  to  live  happily  with  her  husband,  who 
adored  her  and  tried  to  be,  at  one  and  the  same  time, 
lover,  husband,  and  father.  The  god  of  Fate,  who 
is  always  theatrical  in  the  situations  he  devises  for 
his  puppets,  sent  the  young  man  to  Cuba  in  the  same 
regiment  with  the  general,  his  father-in-law.  They 
ate  in  the  same  mess,  and  were  wounded  in  the  same 
fierce  fight,  the  young  man  being  brought  from  the 
field  to  be  invalided  home,  alas!  with  an  empty 
sleeve. 

"  General,"  said  a  brother  officer,  "  you  will  rec- 
ommend your  son-in-law  for  promotion,  will  you 
not?" 

"Senor,  I  do  not  know  what  you  mean,"  replied 
the  stern  old  Don.  "  I  have  no  son-in-law." 

"  But,  Senor  General,  the  husband  of  your 
daughter!  "  said  the  astonished  friend. 

"Senor,"  with  courtesy,  but  firmness,  "I  have  no 
daughter." 

"A  thousand  pardons,  General!"  The  friend  at 
last  understood.  "  It  was  the  Senor  Lieutenant  Don 
Fulano  whom  I  meant." 

"By  all  means!"  The  General's  tone  was  now 
cordial,  for  he  was  justice  itself  and  not  ungenerous. 
"  He  is  a  brave  young  fellow  and  wounded  for  his 
country.  As  you  suggest,  I  shall  recommend  him 
with  pleasure." 

Though  the  young  officer  received  his  promotion 

42 


COURTSHIP    AND   MARRIAGE 

on  account  of  the  General's  recommendation,  and 
was  much  honored  and  feted  at  home,  he  was  never 
received  at  his  father-in-law's  house  to  the  day  of 
that  worthy's  death. 

At  the  time  of  the  marriage  of  the  young  King  to 
his  English  bride,  all  the  world  was  much  interested 
in  Spanish  marriage  customs,  and  it  was  found  to 
be  surprising  how  little  these  customs  deviated  from 
those  of  centuries  ago  in  Spain.  In  these  degenerate 
days,  to  be  sure,  there  is  ofttimes  a  civil  ceremony, 
but  in  all  but  the  most  liberal  circles,  there  must  be 
the  Church's  benediction  upon  the  union.  A  church 
marriage  is  in  the  morning,  and  it  is  a  simple  but  im- 
pressive ceremony,  the  bride  and  groom  receiving 
Holy  Communion  within  the  sanctuary  gates,  a  priv- 
ilege accorded  to  the  people  at  no  other  time  in  their 
lives.  The  Church  then  binds  them  hard  and  fast, 
and  from  this  tie  there  is  no  release,  divorce  being  im- 
possible, and  even  a  separation  is  almost  unheard  of 
among  good  Catholics  of  Spain.  • 


CHAPTER  III 

WOMEN  AND  FAMILY  LIFE 

FAMILY  life  in  Spain  centres  wholly  about  the 
mother  of  the  family.  La  senorita  is  humored, 
perhaps,  by  her  lover;  but  la  senora  to  an  outsider 
appears  a  spoiled  baby.  The  word  of  la  madre  is  law 
to  the  children;  it  is  equally  so  to  the  father,  who  in- 
dulges his  wife  in  countless  ways.  Petticoat  govern- 
ment is  the  rule  in  Spain,  and  it  is  perfectly  surpris- 
ing to  foreigners,  accustomed  to  think  of  the  "  cruel 
Spaniard  "  as  a  despot,  to  witness  the  absolute  mon- 
archy of  family  life,  where  the  ruler  is  often  an  atom 
of  humanity  whose  lord  and  master,  so-called,  would 
easily  make  three  of  her. 

The  women  of  the  better  class  in  Spain  are  shielded 
and  protected  from  every  breath  of  ill  by  the  male 
members  of  their  families,  and,  as  they  have  governed 
their  sons  with  a  rod  of  iron,  so  they  rule  their  hus- 
bands as  surely,  even  if  it  is  with  "  the  hand  of  steel 
in  the  glove  of  silk." 

A  Spanish  family,  boarding  in  one  of  the  large 
cities,  rent  a  suite  of  several  rooms  that  the  senor, 

44 


WOMEN    AND    FAMILY    LIFE 

who  is  a  great  student,  may  sit  up  at  night  and  read 
after  a  busy  day.  But  no,  la  senora  is  fatigued,  she 
must  retire.  Alas !  she  is  very  lonely  in  her  chamber, 
and  he  so  far  from  her,  in  the  next  room;  will  he  not 
sit  near  to  her? 

The  senor  complies  and  is  soon  comfortably  en- 
sconced with  a  book,  when  a  heart-breaking  sigh 
escapes  her  lips. 

"  That  sigh  goes  to  my  heart,"  he  says,  telling  a 
friend  the  circumstances.  '  What  is  it,  child?  "  he 
asks.  "Are  you  ill?" 

"  No,  Francisco,  but  the  light  is  in  my  eyes,"  she 
says. 

'  I  shall  arrange  that,"  he  cries,  and  opens  an 
umbrella,  placing  it  between  her  and  the  light.  All 
is  still  for  a  few  moments  and  then  there  is  another 
sigh  from  the  bed.  "  What  is  it,  baby?  "  and  he 
springs  to  her  side  to  find  her  dying  of  thirst.  This 
want  satisfied,  he  tries  to  read,  but  his  conscience  is  dis- 
turbed, and  he  decides  to  retire  lest  he  should  keep 
her  awake.  Then  her  head  aches,  and  he  rubs  it  for 
half  an  hour,  when  there  must  be  more  air  let  into  the 
room,  for  she  is  stifling.  Finally  sleep  descends  upon 
the  pair.  The  same  woman,  however,  is  capable  of 
the  utmost  self-sacrifice  for  her  husband's  sake.  She 
will  do  anything  to  advance  his  interests.  She  re- 
gards his  peccadillos  with  a  fond  indulgence,  smiles 
at  his  stories,  no  matter  how  often  she  has  heard  them, 

45 


THE    SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

brings  up  his  children  admirably,  and  proves  her- 
self both  wifely  and  motherly. 

The  faults  of  Spanish  women  would  seem  to  be 
those  of  environment,  rather  than  of  natural  temper- 
ament. Treated  as  babies,  it  is  not  surprising  that 
they  sometimes  seem  childish.  Spoiled  from  the 
time  of  her  marriage  it  is  to  be  wondered  at  that  the 
Spanish  dona  retains  her  gentle  virtues;  it  is  even 
more  astonishing  that  she  does  not  spoil  her  children. 
Possibly  one  reason  that  Spanish  men  make,  as  a 
rule,  such  excellent  husbands  is  that  they  have  been 
brought  up  by  their  mothers.  Love  for  the  mother 
is,  moreover,  the  great  passion  of  their  lives,  and  to 
a  Spanish  boy  of  any  class  there  is  never  anyone  in 
the  wide  world  comparable  to  his  mother. 

The  admiration  of  the  men  and  their  indulgence, 
has  fostered  in  Spanish  women  the  vanity  natural  to 
femininity  the  world  over.  They  are  passionately  fond 
of  dress,  and  though  as  a  rule  quiet  in  their  tastes, 
wearing  black  for  church  and  many  dress  occasions, 
they  often  affect  French  fashions  and  sometimes 
startling  combinations.  The  graceful  mantilla  is 
giving  place,  somewhat,  in  Madrid  to  French  mil- 
linery; this  is  a  pity,  for  the  Spanish  woman  in  black 
or  white  mantilla  or  in  the  velo  of  net,  is  a  charming 
creature  and  full  of  a  thousand  airs  and  graces,  while 
she  does  not  wear  French  creations  with  French  chic. 
It  is  said  that  when  she  goes  to  the  sea-shore  for  a 

46 


Fatima 


Awaiting  the  Fete 


WOMEN    AND    FAMILY    LIFE 

fortnight  the  senora  must  have  fifteen  frocks,  for 
she  could  not  possibly  wear  one  gown  twice,  and  her 
huge  Saratoga  trunks  are  called  mundos  by  the 
groaning  portero  who  carries  them.  The  woman  of 
fashion  feels  compelled  to  leave  Madrid  in  the  sum- 
mer. Of  preference  she  goes  to  a  watering  place  in 
France  or  Germany,  —  Trouville  or  Carlsbad,  —  but 
lacking  means  for  such  an  extended  trip,  she  seeks 
her  country  home.  If  she  has  but  a  mere  farm  in  the 
country  she  will  go  thither,  or  perhaps  to  Santander, 
or  Cadiz.  Lacking  money  to  travel,  and  many  Span- 
iards of  the  best  families  are  bitterly  poor,  la  senora 
will  hermetically  seal  the  doors  of  her  town  house  and 
remain  there  in  secret,  behind  closed  doors  and  latched 
jalousies,  until  society  bids  her  open  them  again. 

Nearly  all  Spanish  women  have  decided  claims  to 
beauty,  whether  their  beauty  partakes  of  the  calm 
and  haughty  grace  of  the  North  or  the  sparkle  and 
vivacity  of  the  South.  In  old  age  inclined  to  em- 
bonpoint, the  middle-aged  senora  is  often  handsome, 
generally  in  the  rich,  brunette  style.  Her  eyes  are 
soft  and  dark,  her  hair  cloudy,  her  skin  olive,  and,  in 
Andalucia,  of  a  clear  pallor  more  attractive  than  rosy 
cheeks.  A  woman  of  Orihuela,  with  her  emerald 
scarf,  crimson  rose  or  oleander  in  her  hair,  esparto- 
grass  sandals  on  her  feet,  her  eyes  dark,  her  complex- 
ion dark  and  glowing,  is  scarcely  less  beautiful  than 
the  brown-haired  woman  of  Baza  in  her  yellow  skirt, 

47 


THE    SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

white  camisa,  and  scarlet  head  kerchief,  or  the  staid 
peasants  of  the  Basque  provinces,  fair-haired,  blue- 
eyed,  calm  and  dignified.  Dignified  the  Spanish 
women  always  are,  whether  high  or  low;  generally 
they  are  devout,  and  loyalty  to  the  Church  is  one  of 
their  distinguishing  attributes.  This  is  especially  seen 
in  the  unmarried  women.  Old  maids  are  not  plen- 
tiful in  Spain.  Girls  are  brought  up  with  the  idea  that 
their  destiny  is  matrimony  and  as  a  rule  they  take 
kindly  to  it.  When  they  do  not,  they  frequently 
enter  the  various  religious  orders,  and  very  happy 
these  Spanish  nuns  appear.  When  there  is  no  "  vo- 
cation "  whatever,  the  unmarried  woman  is  regarded 
in  Spain  with  a  rather  pitying  affection.  There  is 
little  for  her  to  occupy  herself  with  save  piety,  and 
she  naturally  turns  to  the  Church.  She  is  kind  to 
the  poor,  always  having  a  number  of  dependants; 
she  is  always  at  the  daily  mass;  she  generally  at- 
taches herself  to  some  particular  saint  to  whom  she 
has  a  special  devotion  (perhaps  because  he  is  her 
name-saint),  whose  altar  she  decorates  daily,  so  that 
she  is  said  to  spend  her  time  in  "  dressing  a  saint." 
This  has  become  a  byword  in  Spain,  and  an  old  maid 
is  spoken  of  as  "  one  who  dresses  a  saint." 

Kind-hearted,  sympathetic,  unaffected,  and  polite, 
the  women  of  the  upper  classes  are  indolent  and 
pleasure-loving;  those  of  the  lower  are  equally  fond 
of  pleasure,  but  hard-working,  patient  as  the  great 

48 


WOMEN    AND    FAMILY    LIFE 

wise-eyed,  creamy  oxen  which  they  drive  across  the 
meadow  lands  of  Andalucia.  Light-hearted  and  full 
of  fun  as  young  girls,  as  women  they  are  graver,  but 
fond  of  chat  and  gossip. 

As  mothers,  Spanish  women  are  devotion  itself. 
From  the  highest  to  the  lowest,  Spaniards  are  de- 
voted to  children,  and  it  is  a  pretty  sight  to  see  a 
young  mother  with  her  baby,  gay  and  tender  as  the 
little  cherub  himself.  Bending  his  fingers  to  form  a 
cup,  tapping  each  finger  gently,  the  grown-up  child 
says, 

"  A  penny  for  baby's  purse, 
From  papa  and  mamma  and  nurse, 
A  penny,  a  penny  to  pay, 
Let  no  one  steal  it  away." 

Instead  of  reciting  the  Saxon  classic  of  "  The  Little 
Pigs,"  a  Spanish  mother  says  as  she  tickles  baby's 
tiny  pink  foot  and  pinches  each  curly  toe,  "  A  white 
dove  passed  this  way;  this  one  caught  it,  this  one 
killed  it,  this  one  put  it  on  to  roast,  this  one  took  it 
off,  and  this  dear  little  bit  of  a  scamp  ate  it  every  bit 
up! "  When  the  nino  learns  to  walk,  it  is  in  family 
conclave,  and  the  proud  young  mother  sings  gaily, 

"  One  little  step,  baby  boy  mine, 

Come,  little  man,  step  up ! 
And  you  shall  have  a  taste  of  wine, 
From  padrino's  silver  cup." 

Devotion  to  her  offspring  is  equalled,  with  a  Span- 
ish woman,  only  by  her  loyalty  to  her  husband.  Her 


THE    SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

marriage  being  generally  a  love  match,  the  Spanish 
dona  has  no  ideas  in  her  head  save  those  of  constancy 
to  her  husband  and  devotion  to  his  interests.  Chas- 
tity is  emphatically  a  feminine  virtue  in  Spain,  and 
the  influence  of  those  lovely  ladies  is  poetically  beau- 
tiful. Captain  Ribot,  in  one  of  Valdez's  charming 
stories,  in  love  with  the  wife  of  his  friend,  feels  shame 
at  the  situation.  Repelled  by  Dona  Cristina, 
"  young,  slender,  pale,  her  hair  black  and  wavy,  her 
whole  personality,  if  not  of  supreme  beauty,  attrac- 
tive and  interesting,"  he  says :  '  Your  noble  words 
will  give  me  strength  while  I  live.  How  many  times, 
leaning  on  the  bridge  of  my  ship,  I  have  felt  happy 
gazing  at  the  stars!  And  more  so  now,  when  I  gaze 
into  thy  sweet  eyes,  frank,  serene,  and  holy.  Let  me 
but  gaze  in  them  as  thy  true  friend,  and  all  my  life 
I  shall  be  content." 

All  Spanish  literature  is  full  of  tales  of  wifely  de- 
votion, as  in  the  Spanish  "  Romeo  and  Juliet,"  the 
story  of  "  The  Lovers  of  Teruel."  These  unhappy 
individuals  were  separated,  the  maiden's  father 
promising  not  to  marry  her  to  any  one  else  but  her 
lover  until  a  term  of  years  had  passed.  Returning  a 
day  too  late,  the  unfortunate  man  found  his  beloved 
married  to  his  rival.  He  begs  for  one  kiss  before  he 
goes,  but  the  virtuous  bride  replies,  "  My  caresses 
belong  to  him  who  is  my  husband  before  Holy 
Church,  though  my  heart  break  for  you! "  At  this 

50 


The  Lovers  of  Teruel 


Blessed  Virgin  with  Jewelled  Embroideries,  Zaragoza 


WOMEN    AND    FAMILY    LIFE 

response  the  lover  falls  dead  of  a  broken  heart; 
which  strange  ailment  seems  to  be  contagious  in 
Spanish  pathology,  for  the  lady  immediately  does 
likewise.  Dona  Ximena,  wife  of  the  Cid,  had  many 
an  opportunity  to  show  her  constancy  to  her  husband 
while  that  doughty  lord  was  rampaging  over  the 
country  after  the  fashion  of  husbands  of  that  day  and 
generation,  and  Spanish  poetry  is  as  full  of  her  con- 
stancy as  of  his  heroism. 

Spanish  women  have,  as  a  rule,  no  part  in  politics. 
Their  home  life  is,  except  in  court  circles,  the  only 
thing  in  the  world  for  them,  and  there  are  few  things 
pleasanter  than  the  Spaniards  at  home.  The  intense 
feeling  as  to  home  life  comes,  perhaps,  from  the 
mixed  strains  of  Celtic,  Gothic,  and  Moorish  blood, 
component  parts  of  the  Spanish  nature.  The  Celts 
were  strongly  family  men,  the  Goths  were  Teutonic 
in  their  family  ties,  —  there  was  an  almost  patri- 
archal structure  to  Moorish  society. 

Spaniards  of  to-day  find  in  their  homes  rest  and  . 
recreation  from  the  cares  of  business,  of  Staie^of-life  J$^ 
in  general,  and  they  are  well  couieui.-^They  seldom 
look  there  for  intellectual  companionship.  Their 
women  folk  are  slightly  educated,  but  this  worries 
the  male  element  not  at  all.  There  is  something  pecu- 
liarly appealing  to  masculine  vanity  in  being  the 
learned  member  of  the  family.  Men  purr  like  tom- 
cats stroked  the  right  way,  when  feminine  glances 

51 


THE     SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

appeal  to  them  as  wisdom  personified.  In  Spain,  a 
woman  should  know  little  of  books  save  her  missal 
and  her  cook  book;  an  old  proverb  says  that  "  a 
mule  that  whinnies  and  a  woman  that  knows  Latin 
never  come  to  any  good."  The  donas  are  well  sat- 
isfied to  have  it  so.  The  world  treats  them  well,  their 
husbands  adore  them  —  why  trouble  to  learn  things 
not  altogether  approved  by  the  Church?  The  things 
they  know  by  intuition,  a  thousand  airs  and  graces, 
a  charm,  a  quick  intelligence,  a  pleasant  sympathy, 
these  are  in  their  eyes,  and  undoubtedly  so  in  the 
eyes  of  their  husbands,  quite  as  valuable  as  Greek 
verbs  and  Latin  roots. 

The  most  striking  thing  about  Spanish  home  life 
is  its  mirthfulness.  The  servants  sing  about  their 
work,  the  children  chatter,  the  women  talk  gaily,  the 
men  jest,  every  one  is  pleasant  and  obliging.  The 
whole  tone  seems  to  be  taken  from  the  pleasant, 
lively,  talkative  dona  at  the  head  of  the  house. 
Strangers  feel  her  charm  as  soon  as  they  enter,  and 
if  not  well  educated,  la  senora  is  interesting  because 
always  muy  simpatica.  Customs  vary  in  different 
ranks  of  life  and  in  different  parts  of  the  country, 
but  the  general  tone  of  family  life  is  the  same. 
Even  among  the  peasantry  one  seldom  hears  quar- 
relling at  home.  Perhaps  because  he  is  temperate 
and  not  given  to  the  amiable  Saxon  habit  of  com- 
ing home  drunk  to  beat  his  wife,  Diego  is  easier 

52 


WOMEN    AND    FAMILY    LIFE 

to  live  with  than  his  English  or  American  cousin, 
and  the  plain  little  whitewashed  cottages  of  the 
poorest  country  homes  seem  to  breathe  a  spirit  of 
content. 

In  a  middle-class  family,  life  is  simple.  The  sefiora 
rises  early  to  tidy  the  living-rooms,  for  but  one  maid 
is  kept  and  she  is  not  omnipotent.  The  senor  break- 
fasts upon  a  roll,  a  cup  of  coffee,  and  perhaps  a  thim- 
bleful of  aguardiente,  going  to  business  at  nine 
o'clock.  The  simple  breakfast  eaten,  which  with  the 
feminine  members  consists  of  a  roll  and  thick 
chocolate,  the  mistress  of  the  house  is  not  above  mar- 
keting for  herself;  she  sallies  forth  attended  by  one 
of  her  daughters,  or  by  the  maid,  who  carries  a  huge 
basket  on  her  arm.  She  buys  with  care,  wasting  not 
a  penny,  and  taking  keen  pleasure  in  bargaining,  go- 
ing from  the  fruit  to  the  vegetable  market,  to  the 
butcher  and  the  baker.  At  each  place  she  hears  some 
delicious  bit  of  gossip,  worth  as  much  as  the  perro 
chico  saved  by  coming  to  market  herself.  At  home 
again,  the  maid  does  the  rougher  work,  the  daughters 
of  the  house  dust  a  little  and  then  settle  themselves 
to  their  embroidery,  while  the  good  housewife  pre- 
pares the  one  o'clock  breakfast.  This  is  a  delightful 
repast,  with  eggs  fried  in  oil  or  cooked  with  tomatoes, 
a  salad  to  make  Lucullus  envious,  and  cocido.  This 
is  a  national  dish  consisting  of  garbanzos  or  chick 
peas  soaked  over  night,  potatoes,  cabbage,  a  pound 

53 


THE    SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

or  two  of  meat,  peppers,  and  sausage.  It  is  nearly  a 
meal  in  itself,  for  the  soup  is  eaten  first,  the  meat  and 
vegetables  following  with  a  salad.  Supper  is  simple, 
consisting  of,  perhaps,  a  soup,  dried  fish,  potatoes, 
and  a  fillet. 

At  eleven  in  the  morning  comes  the  hair-dresser  to 
arrange  the  ladies'  tresses  for  the  day,  for  which  he 
receives  a  dollar  a  week  a  head.  And  what  delightful 
gossip  he  brings  with  him!  After  his  departure  is 
the  dinner,  and  then  all,  even  the  man  of  business, 
take  a  short  siesta,  when  the  senora  must  make  her 
toilet  and  take  her  daughters  to  promenade.  They 
are  perhaps  of  a  marriageable  age  and  suitors  are  in 
attendance,  suitors  well  scanned  by  the  senora,  for 
her  eagle  eye  can  read  them  through  and  through. 
How  handsome  she  looks,  this  well-preserved  woman 
of  forty,  handsomer  even  than  her  daughters,  with 
her  flashing  black  eyes,  her  rich  black  hair  coiled  high 
under  her  black  mantilla,  draped  over  the  comb  which 
had  been  her  mother's  and  her  grandmother's  before 
her!  In  cold  weather  she  will  walk  or  drive  wearing 
but  the  mantilla  over  her  head,  while  the  men  of  her 
acquaintance  are  muffled  to  the  eyes  in  the  folds  of 
their  capas.  After  supper  the  family  occasionally 
go  to  the  theatre,  or  remaining  at  home,  the  young 
people  laugh  and  jest,  flirt  perhaps,  with  their  young 
friends  '(always,  however,  under  the  argus  eyes  of 
mamma),  while  the  elders  talk  gossip,  and  the  senor 

54 


WOMEN    AND    FAMILY    LIFE 

chats  over  his  liquor  and  cigars  with  an  old  crony  or 
two,  playing  dominoes,  cards,  or  tresillo. 

Country  life  varies  considerably  from  that  of  the 
capitals.  A  country  noble  rises  early,  when  the  vil- 
lage barber  comes  to  shave  him.  The  village  barber 
is  also  the  village  gossip,  and  the  love  of  gossip  is  not 
confined  to  the  fair  sex  in  Spain.  The  don  enjoys 
very  much  this  morning  shave  and  chuckles  heartily 
over  delicious  tidbits  served  up  to  him  between 
strokes  of  the  razor.  After  morning  coffee  the  senor 
rides  about  his  estate,  lunching  with  one  of  his  ten- 
ants whose  affection  for  him  is  almost  feudal  in  its 
aspect.  He  listens  to  grumbling  from  his  tenants, 
adjusts  complaints,  hunts  perhaps,  and  dines  at  six, 
often  with  the  village  padre,  his  old  and  tried  friend, 
as  his  guest. 

In  the  southern  part  of  the  peninsula  there  Is  an 
especial  charm  about  the  family  life.  People  have 
time  to  be  pleasant  and  to  attend  to  each  other's  com- 
fort. The  large  Spanish  houses  are  built  with  an  es- 
pecial view  to  comfort,  and  even  in  the  hottest 
weather  the  patio  is  cool  and  pleasant.  About  the 
patio,  which  has  usually  a  fountain  in  the  centre,  run 
corridors  rising  to  several  stories,  the  first  used  for 
offices,  or  if  these  are  at  the  back,  for  dining-room, 
library,  etc.  The  second  floor  is  for  the  bedcham- 
bers; the  third  for  the  nursery,  play  room  and  ser- 
vants. Often  several  well-to-do  families  live  in  the 

55 


THE    SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

same  house,  all  related  and  living  together  harmo- 
niously. In  the  front  portion  of  the  house  are  the 
sala>  or  drawing-room,  the  soloncita,  or  music  room; 
the  gabinete,  or  back  parlor;  and  the  sola  de  con- 
fraiera,  or  lounging-room.  All  these  apartments  are 
connected  by  large  doors  and  have  balconies  to  the 
street,  gay  with  vines  and  blossoms  in  flower  boxes. 
The  windows  are  grated,  remnant  of  Moorish  times 
when  fair  maidens  were  kept  behind  closed  doors. 

The  dining-rooms  are  decorated  with  pictures  of 
fruit  and  game,  upon  the  walls  are  silver  or  bronze 
candlesticks,  and  the  old  mahogany  shines  with  the 
family  plate.  The  bedchambers  are  furnished  in  a 
dignified  and  old-fashioned  style  with  huge  beds, 
often  canopied  in  tapestries.  There  are  dressing- 
table  and  mirrors,  rocking-chairs  (in  which  the 
Spanish  house  differs  from  other  European  man- 
sions), and  a  clothes-chest.  Upon  the  walls  are  holy 
pictures,  a  crucifix,  and  generally,  a  holy  water  font 
is  at  the  head  of  the  bed.  As  the  modern  luxury  of 
screens  is  unknown  in  Spanish  houses,  there  are  us- 
ually mosquito-bars  over  the  beds;  even  these,  how- 
ever, fail  to  insure  comfort  to  the  unfortunate 
sleepers. 

Often  there  are  fourteen  rooms  on  one  floor,  some- 
times as  many  as  eighteen,  all  large.  The  drawing- 
rooms  and  reception  rooms  are  conventionally 
furnished,  though  often  with  the  modern  stuffed  fur- 

56 


WOMEN    AND    FAMILY    LIFE 

niture  and  statuettes,  one  sees  magnificent  pieces  of 
antique  Spanish  mahogany,  carvings  worthy  of  Ber- 
rueguette  and  genuine  Murillos.  The  rooms  are 
lighted  by  candelabra,  sometimes  with  a  lucerna,  or 
hanging  glass  candelabrum  with  countless  glass 
prisms.  There  is  generally  an  oratory  or  shrine  in  all 
Spanish  houses,  and  in  large  ones  a  chapel. 

The  order  of  the  day  in  these  Southern  houses  is 
one  of  ease  and  comfort.  To  the  average  American, 
accustomed  to  the  strenuous  life,  it  seems  at  first  lazy 
in  the  extreme,  but  there  are  few,  even  of  the  most 
strenuous,  who  do  not  fall  easily  into  the  pleasant 
routine  and  soon  find  it  dolce  far  niente.  At  eight  or 
nine  in  the  morning  the  gentlemen  of  the  house  have 
coffee  and  rolls  with  a  little  fruit,  in  bed  or  in  the 
lounging-room,  while  the  ladies  have  thick  black 
chocolate  flavored  with  cinnamon,  and  a  lady-finger, 
in  their  own  apartments.  Breakfast  comes  at  eleven, 
with  five  or  six  courses  of  excellent  food,  simply  pre- 
pared. Dinner  is  the  formal  event  of  the  day,  taking 
place  at  six  in  the  evening;  and  a  genuine  Spanish 
dinner  is  a  feast  for  a  gourmand.  Beginning  with 
olives,  radishes,  and  peppers,  there  comes  next  a 
soup,  thick,  savory,  delicious.  This  is  followed  by 
chicken,  perhaps,  or  pork  with  tomato  sauce.  In  all 
the  sauces  lurks  something  delicious,  intangible,  and 
indefinable,  the  festive  garlic,  not  used  wholesale  but 
in  a  delicate  blending  very  captivating  to  the  taste. 

57 


THE    SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

There  is  often  the  cocido  and  an  entree,  a  dainty  cro- 
quette or  fritter,  when  come  the  fish  and  game,  rather 
than  mutton  or  beef,  to  be  followed  by  baby  pump- 
kin stuffed  with  forcemeat ;  spicy,  fragrant  and  pep- 
pery sweet  peppers  which  look  like  live  coals  but  are 
the  most  toothsome  of  morsels;  Spanish  cheese  and 
anchovies.  Sweets  are  served  sparingly,  and  red 
wine  and  white  wine  are  drunk,  though  often  water 
is  the  only  beverage,  Spaniards  being  the  greatest 
water  drinkers  in  the  world.  Coffee  is  often  served 
in  the  drawing-room,  though  frequently  the  gentle- 
men go  for  it  to  the  club. 

Travellers  seldom  enjoy  the  real  delights  of  Span- 
ish family  life,  for  unless  introduced  by  a  mutual 
friend,  Spanish  hospitality  is  a  trifle  reserved.  '  The 
house  is  yours,"  but  only  in  a  formal  way.  You  are 
made  welcome  at  all  times  to  the  senora's  tertulla  or 
day  at  home,  but  you  are  rarely  invited  to  dine,  as 
in  England;  almost  never  invited  to  stay  in  the 
house,  as  in  America.  When,  however,  you  do  make 
your  way  into  the  family,  its  charm  is  upon  you,  and 
you  leave  with  regret,  feeling  that  you  have  indeed, 
as  your  host  will  tell  you,  "a  home  in  Seville,"  or 
Granada,  or  wherever  it  may  be. 


58 


CHAPTER   IV 

PECULIAR   PEOPLE   AND    CUSTOMS 

THERE  is  nothing  in  Spain  which  the  American 
traveller  really  covets  so  much  as  the  Spanish 
servants.  Perfectly  trained,  they  are  affable  to  a 
degree,  and  as  interesting  to  talk  to  as  the  immortal 
Sancho  Panza  himself.  They  combine  the  absorbing 
interest  in  your  personal  welfare  manifested  by  the 
Southern  darky  of  ante-bellum  days,  and  the  capable 
cleanliness  of  the  best  trained  maids  of  to-day,  with 
this  fine  distinction:  Spanish  servants  really  seem  to 
like  to  serve.  Their  tasks  are  not  sinecures.  There 
is  a  great  deal  of  work  to  be  done  in  Spanish  house- 
holds, and,  except  in  the  great  houses  and  in  the 
haciendas,  but  one  maid  is  ordinarily  kept.  She  is 
paid  the  marvellous  salary  of  three  dollars  a  month, 
unless  she  is  an  expert  cook,  when  she  may  be  muni- 
ficently rewarded  with  four  dollars.  Cooking  is  of 
itself  a  fine  art  in  Spain,  especially  in  a  household 
where  no  two  persons  keep  the  same  hours,  as  is  often 
the  case.  The  children  go  to  school,  they  must  be 
fed  early  in  the  morning.  El  senor  is  always  fa- 

59 


THE    SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

tigued  at  this  early  hour;  he  must  have  a  break- 
fast at  ten  o'clock.  The  senora  is  delicate,  and 
she  has  her  breakfast  in  bed.  Concha  cooks  for  them 
all,  singing  cheerfully  as  a  mockingbird  over  her 
many  meals  and  her  countless  dishes.  If  she  works 
hard,  however,  her  lot  has  alleviations,  for  her  mis- 
tress takes  an  interest  in  all  she  does;  and  when  she 
is  married,  it  is  from  her  mistress's  house  that  she 
goes  to  her  own,  her  linen  chest  well  stocked,  the 
good-will  of  the  family  going  with  her. 

In  the  fashionable  houses  work  is  not  less  hard 
though  there  are  many  to  share  it.  The  cook,  gen- 
erally a  man,  has  five  dollars  a  month,  the  house- 
keeper ten,  the  maids  three  dollars  each.  There  is  a 
dining-room  man  who  cares  for  the  plate  and  the 
gentlemen's  clothes;  a  muchacho,  or  boy  who  runs 
the  errands,  cleans  the  boots,  carries  the  bag  at  the 
hunts,  and  does  all  the  odd  jobs  and  tasks  which  no 
one  else  wishes  to  do.  There  is  also  a  coachman  and 
a  hostler,  but  no  footman  unless  the  master  of  the 
house  is  very  rich  or  titled. 

Most  remarkable  of  all  the  servants  is  the  amaf 
the  baby's  nurse.  She  rules  as  an  absolute  monarch 
in  her  realm,  the  nursery.  Her  wages,  in  cool  doub- 
loons, amounts  to  the  equivalent  of  fifty  dollars  a 
month  in  American  money.  She  is  the  only  servant 
ever  allowed  to  call  the  young  master  tu;  and 
this  privilege  she  guards  jealously  and  never  yields. 

60 


El  Sereno  (Alfred  de  Roulet) 


PEOPLE     AND     CUSTOMS 

It  is  by  no  means  uncommon  to  see  the  smartest  of 
young  officers  stopped  in  the  streets  by  a  buxom 
peasant  woman,  who  hurls  herself  upon  him  with  the 
force  of  a  catapult,  and  covers  his  face  with  kisses 
which  she  promptly  washes  off  with  her  tears,  calling 
him  her  nino.  Instead  of  being  disturbed  at  this 
demonstration,  as  an  American  young  fellow  would 
be,  or  frigidly  tolerant  as  would  an  Englishman, 
the  Senor  Espagnolito  enthusiastically  returns  her 
caresses,  his  good  heart  remembering  all  the  devoted 
care  which  she  has  lavished  upon  him.  She  will  be  an 
honored  guest  at  his  wedding,  and  the  nursling  she 
left  at  home  that  she  might  care  for  her  young  master 
will  always  be  foster  brother  to  her  nino,  who  will 
regard  it  as  a  moral  obligation  to  look  after  the  wel- 
fare of  his  amas  child. 

In  Andalucia  the  greater  number  of  the  houses  are 
built  double,  rather  than  single,  each  house  having 
its  own  entrance.  The  principal  door  leads  to  a 
paved  court  yard,  which  is  surrounded  by  columns, 
and  which  leads  to  the  parlors  and  other  apartments 
of  the  family ;  the  other  door  leads  to  the  inner  yards, 
the  stable,  and  coach-house,  the  kitchens,  the  mill, 
the  wine  and  oil  presses,  the  granaries,  and  the  build- 
ings in  which  are  stored  the  oil,  wine,  spirits,  vinegar, 
etc.  This  second  portion  of  the  house,  even  though 
it  be  situated  in  the  heart  of  a  city  of  twenty-five 
thousand  inhabitants,  is  called  the  farm-house.  The 

61 


THE    SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

overseer,  the  foreman,  the  principal  workmen,  and 
the  domestics  who  have  been  longest  in  the  service 
of  the  family  are  accustomed  to  gather  here 
during  the  winter  evenings, —  around  the  enormous 
fireplace  of  a  spacious  kitchen;  in  the  summer  in 
the  open  air,  or  in  some  cool,*  well- ventilated  apart- 
ment, and  there  toVchat  at  ease  until  "the  master's 
family  is  about  to  retire. 

Rising  at  4  A.  M.  the  Spanish  servants  find  their 
day  somewhat  lengthy,  for,  indeed,  it  is  rare  for  any 
of  them  to  lie  down  before  the  sereno  calls  "  Media 
noche  y  serena-a-a-a!"  (Midnight  and  all  is  well.) 
The  sereno  is  an  institution  purely  Spanish.  Since 
he  was  first  instituted  in  Valencia  in  1777,  he  has 
prowled  around  the  streets  at  night,  lantern  and  pike 
in  hand,  a  relic  of  the  days  when  the  streets  were 
black  as  night  itself,  and  lighted  only  by  the  lantern 
of  some  passer-by.  The  sereno  8  lantern  is  always 
trimmed  and  burning.  He  wears  a  cylindrical  dark 
coat  with  a  pointed  hood,  and  guides  to  their  homes 
all  unsteady  footsteps.  He  can  open  your  door  when 
you  can  find  no  key  but  the  smoking  cigamto  in  your 
fingers,  and  he  can  tell  you  where  you  live,  if  your 
memory  chances  to  have  lapsed  in  that  particular. 

In  most  Spanish  cities  the  sereno  is  merely  a  pic- 
turesque adjunct  of  the  landscape,  a  sort  of  scenic 
effect,  as  it  were,  in  the  opera  bouffe.  Electric  lights 
outshine  the  pale  glow  of  his  mediaeval  lantern; 

62 


, 


PEOPLE    AND    CUSTOMS 


ampant,  unbecoming,  twentieth  century  things, 
which  silhouette  upon  the  very  pavement  every  hair 
awry  in  your  coiffure.  They  in  their  blatant  civili- 
zation make  the  sereno3  s  tender  glow  of  light  seem 
like  a  fascinating  will-o'-the-wisp,  and  display  mod- 
ernity in  all  its  garish  arrogance. 

In  the  small  towns  and  villages,  however,  el  sereno 
is  still  all-powerful  by  night,  and  many  watchers  be- 
side sick-beds  are  cheered  by  his  reassuring  call. 
Strange  noises  the  sereno  makes,  varying  with  the 
town  and  personal  peculiarities  of  the  individual. 
He  seems  to  take  special  delight  in  giving  the  least 
possible  articulation  to  the  words,  laying  great  stress 
on  some  particular  syllable,  and  slurring  the  rest  in 
such  a  manner  that  it  is  absolutely  impossible  for 
one  not  accustomed  to  the  cry  to  distinguish  one  word 
that  he  utters.  In  this  respect  his  cry  presents 
points  of  resemblance  to  the  cries  of  the  street  pecl- 
lers  and  hucksters  in  both  London  and  Paris. 


i 


If  one  is  glad  to  meet  the  sereno  by  night  in 
Spain's  remoter  regions,  still  more  does  one  welcome 
the  Guardia  Civile,  if  travelling  out  of  the  beaten 
path.  In  the  early  forties  Gonzalez  Bravo  organized 
the  Civil  Guards  to  stamp  out  brigandage,  and  they 
have  been  found  so  useful  a  body  of  men,  that  they 

63 


THE    SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

have  been  continued  under  the  care  of  the  Govern- 
ment. Neither  soldiers  nor  policemen,  but  rather  a 
combination  of  both,  their  force  is  a  constabulary  of 
some  twenty  thousand  picked  men.  They  must  be 
able  to  read  and  write,  must  serve  three  years  in  the 
army  and  six  in  the  reserve.  They  must  pass  a  very 
strict  examination,  and  their  record  must  be  excep- 
tionally good,  physically  and  morally.  This  is  the 
£K?  iijgre  necessary  as  they  are  brought  intimately  into 
/M^  contact  with  all  classes  of  people.  Robbers  have  been 
d  of  near  la  casa  grande;  the  Senor  Don  is  away; 
the  Senora  Dona  is  timorous,  she  finds  it  impossible 
to  sleep;  so  she  informs  the  Government  and,  forth- 
with, two  civil  guards  are  told  off  to  watch  her  house 
by  night,  to  walk  behind  the  children  to  school  every 
day,  and  play  watch-dog  generally  for  the  timid  little 
lady.  Not  only  for  the  great,  however,  are  these 
excellent  fellows.  The  tiniest  hut  of  shepherd  or 
charcoal-burner  is,  under  their  vigilance,  safe  as  the 
queen's  drawing-room. 

The  uniform,  which  they  must  supply  for  them- 
selves, is  exceedingly  smart,  and  as  they  are  always 
well  groomed  and  trim  from  top  to  toe,  they  present 
an  excellent  appearance.  They  wear  a  dark  blue 
tunic,  trousers  with  red  stripes  down  the  legs,  buff 
leather  cross-belt,  and  a  glazed  shako,  and  they  carry 
an  English  rifle  or  a  carbine,  according  to  whether 
they  are  mounted  or  foot  guards.  Everywhere  in 

64 


PEOPLE    AND    CUSTOMS 

Spain  one  meets  them,  always  travelling  in  pairs,  in 
the  villages,  on  the  high  roads,  in  the  mountains ;  and 
so  excellently  are  they  trained,  so  high  is  their  morale 
that  they  are  welcome' every  where,  and  a  great  sense 
of  security  is  felt  wherever  they  are  found. 

They  receive  three  pesetas*  a  day  for  salary,  a  horse, 
and  a  house,  —  rather  good  pay  for  Spain,  where 
money  goes  twice  as  far  as  it  does  in  this  country; 
and  though  they  have  to  "  find  themselves,"  all  the 
cooks  along  the  route  are  their  friends,  and  many  a 
juicy  bit  of  chicken  or  savory  arroz  con  tomatos  t 
helps  out  their  rations.  Favorites  with  the  law- 
abiding,  they  are  equally  the  terror  of  evil-doers. 
Smugglers  flee  from  them  as  leaves  before  a  wind, 
and  gypsies  hate  them  as  the  devil  hates  the  cross. 

The  gypsies  of  Spain  do  not  seem  by  any  means  so 
romantic  as  when  George  Eliot  expended  the  fire  of 
her  genius  upon  "  The  Spanish  Gypsy."  Those 
who  call  a  spade  a  spade  and  do  not  define  it  as  "a 
useful  but  scarcely  ornamental  implement  essential 
to  agricultural  operations,"  would  declare  them  in- 
sufferable nuisances.  Spanish  gypsies  are  every- 
where in  Andalucia.  Not,  strictly  speaking,  Spanish, 
with  alien  traits  and  customs,  they  bask  in  the  sun- 
shine, lazy,  thieving  creatures,  with  their  bold,  hand- 
some women,  funny  little  black-eyed  babies,  and 

*  About  sixty  cents. 

t  Rice  cooked  with  tomatoes. 

65 


THE    SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

hordes  of  dogs.  These  dogs  answer  indiscriminately 
to  the  names  Melampo,  Cubilon,  and  Lubina,  the 
supposed  names  of  the  shepherd  dogs  who  saw  Our 
Lord  at  Bethlehem.  They  are  unmistakably  curs, 
ragged,  unkempt,  lean,  as  thieving  as  their  masters, 
yapping  and  snarling  at  one's  heels  by  day  and  howl- 
ing discordantly  by  night. 

Dirty,  the  gypsies  are  still  picturesque  in  their 
bright  kerchiefs  and  gaily  colored  clothes.  They  live 
in  caves  or  dugouts  like  rabbit  burrows,  swarming 
with  dogs,  children,  and  vermin,  and  so  crowded  as 
to  be  a  menace  to  health.  As  beggars  they  are  far 
worse  than  even  the  worst  of  Spain's  professional 
mendicants,  who  are  at  least  civil.  The  gypsies  de- 
mand money  as  if  the  world  owed  them  a  living,  and 
their  importunities  make  it  wellnigh  impossible  to 
shake  them  off,  or  to  make  them  believe  you  have 
"  clean  pockets  "  when  you  have  given  them  your  last 
cinco  centimo.  There  were  days  in  Spain  when  the 
gypsies  were  terrors  to  entire  neighborhoods,  but 
those  days  have  passed.  Whatever  their  tribal  tra- 
ditions, the  wild  folk  are  now  Spanish  subjects,  called 
"  Nuevos  Castellanos"  admitted  to  all  the  rights  of 
other  Spaniards,  not  altogether  out  of  Christian 
charity  on  the  part  of  the  paternal  Government,  but 
because  a  clever  politician  bethought  him  of  the  fact 
that  all  subjects  were  liable  for  the  conscription,  and 
that  Spain  needed  soldiers! 

66 


PEOPLE    AND    CUSTOMS 

In  Spain  the  popular  idea  of  the  gypsies  repre- 
sents them  as  distinctly  undesirable  members  of  so- 
ciety. Their  thieving  propensities  are  remarked  upon 
in  many  of  the  folk  songs,  as  for  example  that  quaint- 
est of  Christmas  carols: 

"Into  the  porch  at  Bethlehem 
Have  crept  the  gypsies  wild 
And  they  have  stolen  the  swaddling  clothes 
Of  the  newborn  Holy  Child. 

"  Oh,  those  swarthy  gypsies ! 
How  could  the  rascals  dare  ? 
They  have  n't  left  the  Holy  Child 
A  single  shred  to  wear." 

Cervantes,  who  certainly  ought  to  have  known,  de- 
scribed gypsies  as  "  born  to  be  thieves  and  robbers; 
their  fathers  are  robbers;  they  are  reared  as  robbers 
and  educated  as  robbers."  An  amusing  tale  is  told 
illustrative  of  the  cleverness  of  the  light-fingered 
gypsy  in  pilfering  without  detection.  A  gypsy  went 
to  confession,  and  during  his  recital  of  his  sins,  no- 
ticed a  silver  snuffbox  protruding  from  His  Rever- 
ence's pocket.  Hastily  transferring  it  to  his  own 
pocket,  the  gypsy  continued  his  confession,  "  And, 
Father,  I  accuse  myself  of  having  taken  from  another 
a  silver  snuffbox." 

6  That,  my  son,  was  a  great  sin.  Do  you  not  know 
that  to  steal  is  wrong?  Remember  the  two  thieves 
who  died  on  the  Cross,  and  repent,  lest  the  fate  of 

67 


THE    SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

the  unrepentant  one  overtake  you,"  said  the  good 
priest. 

"  I  shall  certainly  repent,  my  Father,"  said  the 

gypsy- 

"  It  is  of  no  use  to  repent  unless  you  make  restitu- 
tion," said  the  priest;  "  you  must  return  the  box  to 
the  one  from  whom  you  stole  it." 

"May  I  not  give  it  to  you,  Father?"  asked  the 

gypsy- 

"  Certainly  not!  "  the  priest's  voice  was  very  stern. 
'  You  must  return  it  to  the  one  from  whom  you  stole 
it,  if  you  desire  absolution." 

"  But,  Father,  I  have  offered  it  to  the  owner  and 
he  declines  to  have  it  again." 

"  If  that  is  so,  then  you  are  quite  free  to  keep  it; 
but  another  time  ask  first  before  you  take,  and  then 
you  will  not  have  the  sin  of  stealing  upon  your  soul." 

'  Yes,  Your  Reverence."  The  gypsy's  tone  was 
very  humble.  "  But  in  that  case  I  shall  not  have  the 
pleasure  of  practising  my  skill,"  he  added  to  himself. 
"  It  is  best  to  act  first  and  then  repent." 

The  only  difficulty  about  this  pleasing  tale  is  that 
gypsies  are  almost  never  Christians,  and  when  they 
are,  they  rarely  go  to  confession. 

Spanish  gypsies  do  not  belong  at  all  to  what  has 
been  superciliously  called  "  the  working  classes,"  for 
the  men  never  work  except  casually  and  in  a  desul- 
tory fashion  as  tinners,  blacksmiths,  or  jockeys,  while 

68 


Mosaics  from  the  Cathedral  at  Cordova 


PEOPLE    AND    CUSTOMS 

the  women  tell  fortunes  and  dance.  Doubtless  the 
bold,  black-eyed  gypsy  children  gain  quite  as  much 
from  their  arrant  and  insistent  begging  as  do  the 
parents  from  their  semblance  of  work;  but  in  any 
case,  to  them  life  is  pleasant,  for  the  things  they  love 
are  not  bought  with  money.  As  a  self-styled  gypsy 
king  once  said,  "  Brother,  life  is  sweet.  Here  are 
night  and  day,  both  sweet  things;  sun,  moon,  and 
stars,  all  sweet  things ;  there  is  likewise  a  wind  on  the 
heath.  Life  is  sweet,  and  a  Romany  rye  would  wish 
to  live  forever.  If  I  could  but  feel  the  sweet  breath 
of  the  wind  on  my  cheek,  I  should  wish  to  live  for- 
ever." Since  the  hordes  of  Genghis  Khan  first  started 
the  gypsy  ball  rolling  from  the  Himalayas  toward 
Europe,  the  gypsies  have  dwelt  in  the  breath  of  the 
wind.  Wandering  vagrants,  loyal  to  each  other,  sus- 
picious of  the  outsider,  yet,  once  their  affection 
gained,  friends  for  life,  —  such  are  the  Spanish 
gypsies. 

There  is  no  country  in  the  world  which  seems  to 
the  traveller  to  have  so  many  quaint  customs  as  Spain, 
yet,  nearly  all  of  them  have  a  reason  for  being,  if  one 
can  but  sift  it  out.  The  peasant  who  travels  with  you 
offers  you  his  luncheon.  You  know  that  you  are 
expected  to  decline  with  a  courteous  "  muchas  gra- 
cias"  and  you  wonder  why  it  is  always  offered  you 
with  such  evident  good- will.  It  is  but  a  relic  of  the 
days  when  no  one  would  eat  alone  in  the  presence  of 

69 


THE     SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

another,  lest  he  poison  his  food  with  the  evil  eye.  In 
Seville  naughty  little  street  urchins  scream  after  the 
peasant  women  to  know  if  they  wear  "  garters  in 
their  knives,"  and  scamper  off  with  elflike  shouts. 
They  mean  of  course  to  ask  if  the  dames  wear  knives 
in  their  garters,  as  in  the  days  when  no  virtuous 
woman  went  unarmed  in  Spain,  but  the  Sevillianas 
so  resent  the  imputation,  that  the  teasing  gamins  put 
the  question  backwards. 

Esta  casa  esta  muy  a  la  disposition  de  Usted  cu- 
ando  guste  favor e  cirla  (This  house  is  entirely  at 
your  disposal  whenever  you  please  to  favor  it),  is  a 
polite  remark  made  to  you  by  any  courteous  Span- 
iard, when  you  call  upon  him,  and  is  a  remembrance 
of  the  Moorish  days  in  Spain,  when  hospitality  was 
a  law,  and  all  Christians  put  their  houses  at  each 
other's  service  as  places  of  refuge  from  the  infidel. 
So  also  is  the  query  given  in  answer  to  a  knock  at 
the  door,  "Who  comes?"  and  the  answer,  "Peace," 
for  in  those  old  days  of  strife  many  came  who  were 
by  no  means  peaceful,  and  portals  were  carefully 
guarded. 

A  Spanish  girl  will  have  nothing  of  a  certain  lover. 
"He  is  ugly  as  Picio!"  she  pouts,  and  flouts  him 
scornfully,  and  no  one  even  remembers  who  Picio 
was,  save  that  his  name  has  long  been  considered  the 
synonyme  for  unmitigated  ugliness.  If  you  wish  to 
insult  a  small  boy  in  Spain,  tell  him  to  go  and  wash 

70 


PEOPLE    AND    CUSTOMS 

his  hands  lest  he  be  dirty  as  "  la  caseada  de  Bur- 
guillos."  Ten  chances  to  one  he  will  know  only  that 
it  is  a  very  disagreeable  thing  to  say  to  him,  and  he 
will  never  have  heard  that  the  housewife  of  Burguil- 
los  prided  herself  upon  her  neatness  and  boasted  of 
it  until,  alas !  a  neighbor  saw  her  spit  in  a  frying-pan 
to  see  if  it  was  hot  enough ! 

When  you  sneeze,  even  the  tiniest  Spanish  child 
will  say,  "  Jesus,  Maria  y  Josef,"  but  he  does  not 
know  why,  though  it  has  been  the  custom  ever 
since  the  plague  raged  in  Andalucia,  in  1580,  that 
black  plague  called  la  mosquillo,  of  which  people 
dropped  by  the  wayside  like  flies.  Once  or  twice  they 
sneezed,  and  lo!  they  had  the  plague;  and  very  few 
ever  recovered.  So  it  grew  to  be  the  custom  when- 
ever any  one  sneezed,  for  those  who  heard  him  to  look 
upon  him  with  compassion  and  say,  "  Dios  le  ayude  " 
(God  save  him),  or  to  cry  to  the  Holy  Names  for 
help  —  "  Jesus,  Maria  y  Josef!  " 

In  Spain  washwomen  do  not  hang  their  washing 
upon  clotheslines  with  pins.  They  wash  beside  the 
streams,  rubbing  the  linen  upon  the  smooth,  white 
stones  and  spreading  it  upon  the  grass  and  bushes  to 
dry.  If,  by  chance,  any  one  hangs  the  baby's  frocks 
upon  a  rosemary  bush,  she  is  in  wonderfully  good 
luck,  because  far  away  in  the  hills  of  Palestine,  Mary 
the  Virgin  washed  the  Christ  Child's  linen  and  hung 
it  upon  a  rosemary  bush  to  dry.  It  is  easy  to  tell 

71 


THE    SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

which  of  the  washwomen  are  happily  married.  She 
who  is  not  —  ah !  what  wonderfully  clean  shirts  her 
husband  wears!  She  rubs  them  upon  the  stones  as 
she  talks. 

"He  is  the  worst  man  you  ever  saw  [rub,  rub]. 
Never  is  he  at  home!  [slap,  slap  on  the  stones].  Al- 
ways is  he  upon  the  paseo  by  night,  or  at  the  dance 
[anger  lends  vigor  to  her  rubbing].  Indeed,  save 
for  his  clean  shirts,  no  one  would  ever  know  he  had  a 
wife!  "  [rub,  rub,  rub]. 

The  happy  wife  on  the  contrary  has  no  energy  to 
work  off  upon  her  work.  She  stands  with  her  linen 
in  her  hands,  and  tells  of  Juan's  perfections.  So  good 
is  he,  always  at  home,  so  good,  so  kind,  oh!  she  is  so 
happy!  And  forgetting  all  about  her  washing  she 
sings  in  her  clear,  contralto  voice,  the  little  song  which 
tells  of  how  the  Blessed  Virgin  seated  herself  beneath 
an  olive  tree  to  rest  when  the  Holy  Family  was  fleeing 
into  Egypt,  and  the  leaves  turned  down  to  look  at  her 
child. 

"La  Virgen  quiso  sentarse 
A  la  sombra  de  un  olivo, 
Y  las  hojas  se  volvieron 
A  ver  al  recien  nacido." 

Many  quaint  little  sayings  abound  in  Valencia. 
When  a  sleeping  child  smiles  its  mother  rejoices  and 
says,  "See  him  laugh  with  the  angels  which  only  he 
can  see! "  and  if  any  one  complains  of  a  buzzing  in 


CD 

I 


i 


(/I 

5' 

r+ 

:r 
n 

I 

SL 

c 


f  ^.^1^ 


PEOPLE    AND    CUSTOMS 

his  ears  he  is  told  that  it  is  the  sound  of  a  leaf  fall- 
ing from  the  Tree  of  Life.  In  one  of  the  Valencian 
villages  exists  a  pretty  custom,  that  of  burning  every 
night  two  candles  before  the  shrine  of  Our  Lady  of 
the  Unprotected,  in  the  hope  that  she  will  aid  those 
needing  protection  during  the  darkness  of  the  night. 
In  a  neighboring  village  at  dawn  each  day,  the  chimes 
of  the  church  bell  call  to  prayer  pious  souls  to  say 
el  Bosario  de  la  Aurora,  sung  for  the  Holy  Souls. 

"En  el  cielo  se  reza  un  Rosario 
Todos  las  mananas  al  amanecer, 
Santiago  lleva  el  estandarte, 
San  Pedro  la  luz,  la  cruz  San  Miguel. 

Pues  vamos  alia, 

Que  no  hay  cosa  mas  santa  y  mas  dulce 
Que  el  Santo  Rosario  que  se  va  a  rezar." 

In  Madrid  the  whole  unmarried  population  has  for 
years  been  wont  to  flock  to  the  Fountain  of  Cybele  in 
the  Prado,  as  sure  as  midsummer  night  brought 
dreams  to  unsought  lovers.  There  was  once  in  the 
Puerta  del  Sol  a  magic  spring,  the  waters  of  which,  if 
sprinkled  at  eve  of  San  Juan's  day,  guaranteed  a  wed- 
ding before  the  year  was  out.  The  ugliest  cavalier, 
the  most  unloved  maid  could  be  sure  the  marriage  bells 
would  ring  for  them  if  touched  by  only  a  drop  of  that 
precious  water.  This  miraculous  spring  let  its  mantle 
fall  in  the  course  of  time  upon  the  Fountain  of  Cybele, 
and  all  who  sought  the  Prado  at  the  witching  hour  of 
midnight  were  insured  good  fortune  in  the  matri- 

73 


THE    SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

monial  market.  In  Granada  she  will  be  sure  of 
marriage  within  the  year  who,  upon  the  feast  of  the 
Epiphany,  rings  the  bells  of  the  Torre  de  la  Vega, 
where  the  Alhambra  towers  in  ruined  beauty  over  the 
snow-white  town,  the  golden  Darro  and  the  emerald 
Vega. 

Many  street  scenes  which  the  Spaniard  accepts  as  a 
matter  of  course  seem  to  the  traveller  archaic  or,  at 
least,  peculiar.  A  goatherd  passes  in  the  street  at  the 
head  of  his  procession  of  goats.  He  is  quite  too  dig- 
nified to  look  back,  but  if  he  did,  he  would,  perhaps, 
see  a  woman  slip  out  from  her  door  and  quickly  milk 
one  of  his  goats  en  passant. 

A  call  from  an  upper  window  stops  him  and  a  pail 
is  lowered  on  a  cord  from  the  window.  The  goatherd 
takes  a  coin  from  the  little  bucket,  milks  it  full  of 
foaming  goat's  milk,  sends  it  up  again  and  goes  his 
way. 

He  is  hailed  by  a  passing  swineherd  taking  his 
porkers  to  graze  in  another  direction.  The  swineherd 
is  a  curious  fellow  and  seems  almost  like  the  Pied 
Piper  of  Hamlin  Town,  for  he  does  but  play  a  funny 
little  jiglike  tune  on  his  pipe,  and  from  every  alley 
and  byway  the  pigs  come  trooping  out  to  follow  him. 
Large  and  small,  black  and  white,  clean  and  dirty,  out 
they  all  tumble  to  his  heels  as  if  bewitched  by  his  pip- 
ing note.  At  night  they  will  all  come  home  again,  a 
personally  conducted  party  of  little  porcine  "  Cook's 

74 


PEOPLE    AND    CUSTOMS 

Tourists,"  and  each  one  knows  his  own  alley  and  will 
whisk  into  it  as  soon  as  he  comes  in  sight  of  it,  with  a 
grunt  as  if  he  were  saying  a  piggy  "  good-night." 

The  water-carrier  meets  you  too,  carrying  his  huge 
skins  and  crying  "  agua-agua-agua  fresca!  "  or  per- 
haps down  some  steep  steps,  for  the  village  is  built 
upon  a  hillside,  you  meet  some  Moorish-looking  beau- 
ties, old  and  young,  with  their  quaint,  old-time  water 
jars  upon  their  shoulders,  returning  from  a  visit  to 
the  village  fountain. 

Meeting  a  little  lad  you  ask,  "  Your  name,  Nino?  " 
and  without  a  trace  of  hesitation  or  shyness  he  doffs 
his  cap  and  answers,  "  Arturo,  to  serve  God  and  you, 
senora,"  while  a  toddling  little  maid  of  three,  to 
whom  you  toss  a  copper,  will  lisp  bewitchingly, 
"  Muchas  gracias,  senora,  may  the  Blessed  Virgin  go 
forth  with  you  and  gladden  all  your  way!  " 

Further  along  the  road  you  meet  a  bullock  cart. 
The  cart  is  a  small  affair,  crude  and  rough,  compared 
with  the  huge  snowy  oxen  which  draw  it  with  an  air 
of  stately  disdain.  The  driver  looks  as  if  he  were  one 
of  the  stage  properties  in  "  Carmen  "  or  perhaps 
"  Figaro,"  a  veritable  opera  peasant,  short  velveteen 
breeches,  white  shirt,  blue  faja,  red  cap  and  all.  With 
true  Spanish  nonchalance  he  walks  twenty  feet  in 
front  of  his  beasts,  turning  leisurely  every  once  in  a 
while  to  point  his  wand  at  the  oxen  and  call  sharply, 
fe  Arre!  A-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-e! "  Not  that  this  even  in  the 

75 


THE    SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

most  remote  degree  disturbs  the  oxen;  they  dwell  in 
the  pleasant  land  of  Mariana  and  they  continue  calmly 
on  in  the  even  tenor  of  their  way. 

Before  going  for  a  trip  into  the  Sierras,  you  must 
look  at  the  Sierra  de  Parapanda,  for  this  peak  is 
looked  upon  as  a  barometer  by  the  peasants.  Does 
not  the  couplet  run? 

"Cuando  Parapanda  se  pone  la  montera 
Slueve  aunque:  Dios  no  lo  quiera."* 

"  Sleep  well  and  dream  not  of  God  at  midnight," 
says  your  peasant  friend,  as  you  leave  the  pleasant 
circle  around  the  brazero,  upon  which  your  hostess 
has  sprinkled  dried  lavendar  flowers  to  do  you  honor; 
and  when  you  ask  why,  you  will  be  told,  "  Dream  of 
God  at  midnight  and  you  will  be  a  priest  or  a  nun, 
and  to  dream  of  an  altar  prepared  for  High  Mass 
means  misfortune." 

There  are  in  Spain  several  meridians  by  which  time 
is  regulated  in  different  parts  of  the  peninsula.  Each 
town  therefore  regulates  its  clocks  by  its  own  merid- 
ian, which  causes  difficulties  in  the  matter  of  exact- 
ness, and  this  often  leads  to  disputes.  In  Seville  it 
has  reached  such  a  pass  that  there  is  a  bitter  feud  be- 
tween the  town  and  the  railroad  as  to  the  correct  time. 
This  feud  is  far-reaching  and  involves  even  the  beg- 
gars on  the  street  and  the  birds  in  the  air. 

*  "  When  Parapanda's  brow  is  hid, 
It  rains,  though  God  himself  forbid." 

76 


PEOPLE    AND    CUSTOMS 

The  Sisters  at  La  Caridad  have  for  many  years 
been  accustomed  to  serve  bread  and  soup  at  their 
doors  at  exactly  twelve  each  day,  and  the  storks  who 
nest  in  the  towers  above,  come  down  with  great  reg- 
ularity for  their  share*  in  the  feast.  So  regular  was 
this  performance  that  many  people  were  in  the  habit 
of  setting  their  watches  by  the  storks'  descent.  Not 
long  ago  the  question  arose  as  to  the  correct  time  for 
a  train  to  leave.  It  was  booked  for  twelve  o'clock, 
and  a  wealthy  don  arrived  at  that  hour  to  find  it 
gone.  Greatly  enraged  he  flew  to  the  ticket  office  to 
be  told  that  it  had  left  strictly  according  to  railroad 
time.  His  watch  still  said  five  minutes  to  the  hour  and 
he  knew  it  was  correct.  He  had  an  important  busi- 
ness engagement  in  another  city  and,  with  wrath  in 
his  soul,  therefore,  he  referred  the  matter  to  the 
courts  and  brought  suit  against  the  railway  company 
for  damages  to  his  business. 

It  was  a  difficult  case  to  decide,  but  with  true  Span- 
ish ingenuity  the  Justice  who  tried  the  case  called  for 
witnesses  as  to  the  time.  On  the  one  side  were  the 
railway  officials,  clerks,  time-keepers,  etc.  On  the 
other  were  the  don,  his  coachman,  and  his  friends.  It 
was  the  coachman  who  decided  the  suit.  Upon  being 
asked  as  to  the  time  when  he  drove  his  master  to  the 
train  he  replied  succinctly: 

"  It  requires  five  and  twenty  minutes  to  drive  from 
the  house  of  His  Excellency  to  the  station.  It  was 

77 


THE\   SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

exactly  half  past  eleven  when  we  left  the  house.  It 
could  not  have  been  twelve  when  we  reached  the  sta- 
tion, because  when  we  passed  La  Caridad  the  storks 
were  still  on  the  tower  and  the  beggars  waiting  at  the 
gate!" 

That  settled  the  question  absolutely  and  the  don 
won  his  suit. 

In  Valencia  there  is  still  in  vogue  the  curious  water 
tribunal,  "  El  Tribunal  de  las  Aguas"  which  the 
Moors  instituted,  those  Moors  who  understood  so  well 
the  value  of  irrigation,  and  made  of  the  province  of 
Valencia  one  of  the  most  fertile  in  Spain. 

The  water  tribunal  *  settles  all  disputes  about  irri- 
gation, and  it  is  one  of  the  most  picturesque  institu- 
tions in  the  country.  The  men's  costume  consists  of 
white  knee  breeches,  full  enough  to  seem  almost  like 
skirts,  alpargatas,  gaiters,  a  scarlet  faja,  and  a  short, 
black,  or  dark,  velvet  jacket.  On  the  head  is  worn  a 
kerchief  twisted  into  a  kind  of  cap,  and  a  gathering  of 
hombres  Valencienos  thus  attired  is  an  interesting 
sight.  On  Thursday  every  week  the  oldest  men  of 
the  city  gather  before  the  cathedral  and  sit  there  in 
solemn  silence  until  their  gaily  costumed  complain- 
ants appear.  Each  case  they  hear  in  silence.  Fulano 
has  used  more  water  than  was  his  by  right.  Fulanito 
has  left  the  water  turned  on  all  night,  etc.,  etc.  Hav- 
ing heard  both  sides  of  the  tale,  the  judges  lay  their 

*  See  Chapter  XI,  Andalucians. 

78 


PEOPLE    AND    CUSTOMS 

heads  together,  literally,  not  metaphorically,  for  they 
cover  their  heads  with  a  capa  and  beneath  its  capacious 
shelter  they  decide  the  case,  and  from  this  decision 
there  is  no  appeal. 

Another  curious  custom  of  Spain  is  the  almost 
fetish  worship  of  the  Tree  of  Guernica  by  the  Basque 
people,  who  seem  to  regard  this  tree  with  a  supersti- 
tious reverence.  El  Roble  Santo  they  call  it,  and  it 
is  the  tree  under  whose  shade  among  fierce  nobles, 
kings  confirmed  the  popular  laws.  It  grows  in  the 
patio  of  the  House  of  Assembly  at  Guernica,  a  scion 
of  the  original  tree,  the  destruction  of  which  by  the 
French  is  lamented  by  Vascuenses  since  1794.  The 
trunk  is  enclosed  in  glass  and  in  front  of  it  is  a  small 
Corinthian  temple  with  seven  seats  for  the  senators, 
who  meet  here  the  first  of  July  every  other  year. 

Ferdinand  V  of  Castile  ratified  the  Basque  fueros 
beneath  this  tree,  and  any  Basque  will  tell  you  that 
their  province  was  never  conquered,  but  became  a 
portion  of  the  kingdom  of  Spain  by  right  of  succession. 
In  1370  Don  Tello,  Lord  of  Biscay,  died  without 
direct  descendants,  and  his  estates  passed  to  his  cousin, 
Dona  Juana,  wife  of  Henry  II  of  Castile.  The  son 
of  Henry  II,  upon  his  succession  to  the  throne,  was 
called  "  The  most  puissant  King  of  Castile  and  Leon 
and  Lord  of  Biscay,"  and  he  also  confirmed  the 
Basques  in  their  liberties.  Their  fueros  were  never 
interfered  with  in  any  way  until  the  Basques  were  so 

79 


THE    SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

persistent  in  favoring  Don  Carlos  as  to  threaten  the 
Bourbon  security  on  the  throne.  The  present  King's 
father  took  away  from  them  the  privileges  of  the 
fueros,  the  most  important  of  which  was  exemption 
from  military  service.  Even  bereft  of  these  fueros 
the  Basque  still  treasures  the  Tree  of  Guernica  and 
children  are  held  up  to  salute  it,  and  small  boys  doff 
their  caps  in  passing,  while  old  people  tell  you  jeal- 
ously that  good  fortune  will  now  come  to  you  since 
you  have  seen  "  The  Tree."  Sailors  starting  on  a  long 
voyage  are  given  a  leaf  from  the  tree  as  a  mascot, 
and  brides  carry  one  in  their  bridal  bouquets,  while  all 
Biscayans,  great  and  small,  can  chant  the  famous 
tree  song,  Guernica  Arbola*  the  Basque  national 
anthem. 


Guer-ni  -  ca  -  co   ar  -  bo  -  la,     Da  be-dein-ca  -  tu    -   ba, 


P 


Eus-cal  -  du  nen  ar   -   te 


an   Gutz-tiz  mai-ta  -  tu  -  ba. 


E-man-da  -  za  -  bal   -   za     -    zu   Mun-du  -  an  f  ru  -  tu  -  ba, 


*  Tree  of  Guernica. 
80 


PEOPLE    AND    CUSTOMS 


E-man  -  da-za  -  bal  -  za     -     zu   Mun-du  -  an  fru  -  tu  -  ba, 


/, 


P     g^ 


A  -  do  -  ra-tzen-zai  -  tu    -  gu,     Ar   bo  -  la  San  -  tu    -    ba  — 

ff. 


a^L^^l 


i 


A  -  do  -  ra-tzen-zai  -  tu    -   gu     Ar  -  bo  -  la  San-tu   -  ba. 

The  Oak  Tree  of  Guernica 

Within  its  foliage  green 
Embraces  the  bright  honor 

Of  all  the  Basque  demesne. 
For  this  we  count  thee  holy, 

Our  ancient  seal  and  sign; 
The  fibres  of  our  freedom  > 

Are  interlaced  with  thine. 

Castile's  most  haughty  tyrants 

Beneath  thy  solemn  shade 
Have  sworn  to  keep  the  charter 

Our  fearless  fathers  made; 
For  noble  on  our  mountains 

Is  he  who  yokes  the  ox, 
And  equal  to  a  monarch 

The  shepherd  of  the  flocks. 


81 


CHAPTER   V 

FETES  AND  FESTAS 

THE  Spanish  people  have  apparently  more  feast 
days  than  any  people  in  the  world.  It  would 
seem,  almost,  that  life  in  the  Peninsula  was  one  long 
festa,  for  no  matter  when  you  visit  a  Spanish  town 
there  is  always  something  doing  in  the  way  of  festiv- 
ity. If  it  is  not  a  national  holiday,  it  is  at  least  a  local 
one,  or  perchance  the  name  day  of  the  people  in  whose 
casa  you  are  stopping. 

These  last  festas  are  similar  to  our  birthday  cele- 
brations, and,  as  every  Spaniard  is  named  for  a  saint, 
the  name  day  is  that  of  his  patron  saint.  On  such 
festive  occasions  it  is  said,  "  hoy  santo  en  casa"  *  and 
all  special  friends,  as  well  as  the  immediate  family  > 
observe  the  day,  especially  if  it  happens  to  be  the  name 
day  of  the  mother  of  the  family.  Early  in  the  day 
appears  from  the  florist  a  magnificent  "  set  piece," 
this  fashion  of  torturing  flowers  into  shapes  still  pre- 
vails in  Spain, —  and  this  is  followed  by  a  basket  of 
fruit  from  one  family  friend,  a  box  of  sweets  from 

*  There  is  a  saint  in  this  house. 


FETES    AND    FESTAS 

another,  a  bunch  of  flowers  from  another,  until  the 
house  blooms  like  the  rose.  A  general  air  of  merri- 
ment prevails;  there  is  a  drive  or  promenade  in  the 
afternoon,  and  in  the  evening,  probably,  a  tertulia,  or 
at  least  friends  will  drop  in  with  best  wishes  for  her 
who  has  a  "  saint  in  the  house." 

It  would  be  an  unpardonable  offence  in  Spain  if  a 
novio  should  forget  the  name  day  of  his  innamorata, 
and  the  fair  Pepita  would  pout  and  flout  if  upon  St. 
Joseph's  day  she  did  not  receive  flowers,  fruit,  or 
sweets  from  the  one  to  whom  she  had  shown  favor. 
The  little  maids  have  especially  good  fortune  who  are 
named  for  Our  Lady.  Their  feasts  are  countless,  and 
while  there  is  generally  some  especial  feast  day  chosen 
by  the  bearer  of  the  Blessed  Virgin's  name,  chosen 
because  she  is  called  for  that  especial  feast,  Pilar,  or 
Concepcion,  or  Angustia,  from  Nuestra  Senora  del 
Pilar,  de  la  Concepcion,  or  del  Angustia,  still  if  the 
fair  one  is  the  least  bit  inclined  to  be  roguish,  she  can 
play  to  her  own  advantage  at  least  once  every  week. 
The  story  is  told  of  a  fair  Mariquita  whose  parents 
wished  her  to  marry  a  rich  old  suitor  who  was  noto- 
riously stingy.  This  did  not  at  all  suit  Mariquita,  who 
had  already  sworn  eternal  constancy  to  Diego, 
through  the  grill,  as  he  languishingly  "  bit  the  iron." 
She  was  a  dutiful  little  daughter*  To  her  parents' 
presentations  of  the  charms  of  old  Senor  Reales,  she 
did  but  answer,  "  Si,  mi  madre,  si,  mi  padre,"  and 

83 


THE     SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

sigh  prodigiously.     She  received  the  old  man  with 
politeness. 

"  My  name  is  Maria,"  she  answered  simply,  in  re- 
sponse to  his  inquiries.  "Is  it  not  a  beautiful  thing 
to  be  named  for  Our  Lady?  "  There  was  an  engaging 
simplicity  in  her  voice  and  manner.  Senor  Reales  was 
charmed. 

'  To-morrow  is  the  Feast  of  the  Immaculate  Con- 
ception," he  said.  "  Do  you  celebrate  that  or  the  As- 
sumption? "  he  asked. 

"Oh,  really,  the  senor  is  too  kind,"  she  said  depre- 
catingly.  "  My  friends  do,  of  course,  remember  me, 
but,  no,  senor,  do  not  think  of  it,  I  beg!"  and  she 
shook  her  pretty  little  head  from  side  to  side. 

There  was  nothing  for  the  senor  to  do  but  to  dedi- 
cate some  of  his  precious  pesetas  to  buying  her  a  set 
piece,  and  he  called  next  day  to  offer  her  his  good 
wishes.  He  found  that  she  had  received  a  magnificent 
box  of  sweets  as  well  as  his  offering,  and  determined 
another  time  to  send  her  sweets.  It  was  only  a  short 
time  before  there  came  another  feast  of  the  Virgin, 
and  the  senor  overheard  Mariquita  say  that  she  ex- 
pected flowers  the  next  day.  It  hurt  his  pocket  ter- 
ribly, but  he  saw  that  it  was  necessary  to  placate  the 
spoiled  beauty.  So  he  sent  her  the  handsomest  box 
of  sweetmeats  the  town  afforded,  and  was  rewarded 
with  a  smile  and  the  sight  of  flowers  far  more  beau- 
tiful than  those  which  he  had  sent  her  before. 

84 


FETES    AND    FESTAS 

The  feasts  of  Our  Lady  followed  thick  and  fast. 
There  was  the  feast  of  Our  Lady  of  Sorrows,  and 
Our  Lady  of  Joy,  the  Nativity  of  the  Blessed  Virgin, 
the  Annunciation,  the  feast  in  honor  of  Nuestra 
Senora  del  Buen  Consejo,  de  la  Merced,  del  Milagro, 
de  la  Baz,  —  ad  infinitum  —  for  the  Senor  Reales  ad 
nauseam!  He  had  once  in  a  tentative  way  asked,  "  Is 
the  feast  to-morrow  one  of  your  festas,  Senorita?  " 
And  naughty  little  Mariquita,  quickwitted  as  are  all 
Spanish  women,  remembering  in  an  instant  that  the 
feast  was  of  Nuestra  Senora  del  Alegria,  asked  re- 
proachfully, "  The  senor  does  not  think,  then,  that  I 
should  be  called  for  Our  Lady  of  Joy?  " 

Of  course  the  senor  did,  and  of  course  he  had  to 
assure  her  that  she  was  joy  incarnate,  and  that  of  all 
others  this  should  be  her  festa,  and,  next  day,  sent  to 
Miss  Caprice  the  finest  bonbons  obtainable. 

At  last,  however,  affairs  reached  a  crisis.  The 
seflor  was  desperate.  He  had  spent  hoards  of  pese- 
tas in  honor  of  the  name  day  of  his  teasing  fairy. 
She  had  revelled  all  winter  in  fruit  and  flowers  and 
sweets,  her  chamber  was  a  veritable  show  room  with 
cards  and  souvenirs,  but  he  seemed  no  nearer  her  favor 
than  he  had  been  at  first.  She  had  always  upon  her 
feast  days  displayed  a  gift  a  little  handsomer  than  the 
one  he  had  made  to  her.  At  last  the  crisis  came.  He 
forgot  a  feast.  It  was  the  feast  of  Nuestra  Senora 
del  Remedies,  but  it  chanced  to  be  really  Mariquita's 

85 


THE    SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

proper  name  day,  and  she  was  terribly  abused.  She 
said  nothing.  She  was  too  well-bred  for  that,  but 
when  he  paid  his  daily  call,  as  was  his  •custom,  she 
wore  one  red  rose  over  her  ear  in  a  most  charmingly 
coquettish  manner,  a  magnificent  bouquet  of  red  roses 
was  on  the  table,  the  piano  was  piled  with  gifts.  Mar- 
iquita's  manner  was  chilly,  and  to  his  apologies  she 
shrugged  her  shoulders. 

"  Pero  lion,  senor,  there  is  no  reason  why  you 
should  send  me  a  flower,"  airily,  and  when  he  took  his 
apologies  to  the  mother,  that  lady,  too,  was  most  un- 
sympathetic. 

"  I  begin  to  fear  that  you  have  not  won  the  heart 
of  my  daughter,"  she  said.  "  Of  course  her  hand 
must  go  only  with  her  heart." 

The  senor  retired  in  despair  and  sought  the  father. 

"  But  what  can  I  do?  "  said  that  worthy,  deprecat- 
ingly.  "  The  child  and  her  mother  will  have  it  that 
you  are  neglectful.  Women  have  their  own  ideas. 
One  must  once  in  a  while  spend  something  to  please 
them!" 

"  Once  in  a  while!  Spend  something!  Name  of 
God!  I  have  already  spent  a  fortune  to  buy  your 
daughter!"  screamed  the  irate  old  man;  but  the 
father  interrupted  him,  for  his  Spanish  pride  was 
touched. 

"  My  daughter  is  not  for  sale,  Senor  Reales,"  he 
said  sternly.  "  I  regret  that  you  recall  the  few  paritas 

86 


FETES    AND    FESTAS 

you  spent  for  her  pleasure.  Pray  spend  no  more.  It 
is  very  pleasant  out-of-doors,  senor,"  and  he  bowed 
him  out,  oblivious  of  his  agonized  protestations. 

That  night  the  tinkle  of  a  guitar  was  heard  beneath 
Mariquita's  window.  There  were,  too,  whispered 
confidences,  for  Diego  had  returned  from  his  practice 
at  arms  and  was  now  on  furlough. 

The  tale  was  told  him  gleefully  by  the  naughty  little 
maid,  and  he  laughed  softly,  then  demanded  jealously, 

"  But,  my  angel,  the  roses  and  the  bonbons  you  had 
always  finer  than  his,  who  sent  them? "  Mariquita 
laughed. 

"Jealousy!"  She  reached  through  the  bars  and 
tapped  him  playfully  with  her  fan.  "  Well,  I  will  tell 
you  because  you  have  been  away  so  many  months.  I 
bought  them  myself.  Indeed  it  took  every  peseta  of 
my  pocket  money,  and  I  have  not  had  a  new  mantilla 
all  the  year,  but  truly  I  had  to  arrange  it  in  «ome 
way."  Diego's  laugh  rang  out,  but  was  hastily  smoth- 
ered as  a  voice  from  the  next  room  said  severely, 
"Mariquita!" 

"  Adios"  she  said  hastily,  and  disappeared  within, 
but  not  before  he  had  whispered,  "  You  are  an  angel 
with  the  wit  of  a  woman,  Mariquita  mia,  and  you 
shall  have  a  new  mantilla."  And  at  her  marriage 
to  Diego,  Mariquita  wore  the  most  exquisite  mantilla 
which  had  ever  been  seen  in  the  village,  and  it  was 
not  a  festa  gift  from  the  Senor  Reales. 

87 


THE     SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

Less  personal  in  interest  than  the  name  days,  but 
quite  as  absorbing  to  the  Spanish  heart,  are  the  vari- 
ous saints'  days  celebrated  for  some  especial  reason  in 
special  places,  as,  for  example,  the  patron  saint  of  a 
city.  Each  Spanish  city,  town,  and  village  has  its 
especial  patron  whose  day  is  celebrated  with  elaborate 
ceremonies.  The  day  of  San  Isidro  of  Madrid  is 
probably  one  of  the  most  important  of  these  celebra- 
tions, for  King  and  people  unite  to  do  honor  to  the 
ploughman  saint. 

Democratic  Spain!  San  Isidro  was  born  in  Cas- 
tile, poor,  a  peasant,  yet  he  is  honored  to-day  by 
royalty,  nobility,  bourgeoisie,  and  peasants.  He  was 
a  ploughman,  a  farm  hand,  the  simplest  of  souls, 
dwelling  with  his  wife  in  a  little  whitewashed  cottage 
like  those  which  to-day  dot  the  plains  of  Castile. 
A  lover  of  birds  and  animals,  his  prayers  always 
brought  rain  to  drought-stricken  Madrid,  which  aris- 
tocratic city  adopted  him  as  her  patron  in  1232,  when 
his  body,  so  says  the  chronicle,  "  borne  over  the  parch- 
ing land,  saved  the  crops  from  destruction  beneath 
the  scorching  sun,  by  bringing  floods  of  rain  which 
nearly  drowned  the  bearers."  Often  the  saints 
showed  this  tendency  to  overdo  things  in  Spain,  but 
it  did  not  lessen  the  fervency  of  Spanish  prayers  for 
San  Isidro's  intercession.  They  have  continued 
through  the  centuries,  even  so  late  as  the  time  of  the 
recent  war  with  America,  when  the  saint  was  im- 

88 


FETES    AND    FESTAS 

plored,  in  a  public  procession,  to  stop  the  war  and  send 
rain.  The  procession  in  his  honor  is  veritably  regal. 
Starting  from  the  Puerta  del  Sol,  the  tide  of  piety 
surges  by  the  Calle  Mayor  to  the  Hermitage  of  San 
Isidro,  built  over  a  miraculous  well,  whose  waters  have 
healed  many  of  the  infirmities  of  royalty  as  well  as 
those  of  their  peasant  brothers. 

How  like  the  gayest  of  markets  are  the  streets  dur- 
ing this  famous  romeria!  They  are  crowded  with 
fruits,  fans,  cakes,  laces,  mantillas,  sweetmeats,  paint- 
ings of  the  saint,  funny  little  glass  pigs,  in  honor  of 
his  saintship's  profession,  and  entrancing  little  pig 
bells,  which,  when  properly  blessed,  are  said  to  keep 
away  lightning.  Little  glass  whistles  are  made  like 
roses  and  may  be  worn  in  the  buttonhole,  when  not  in 
use  in  giving  one  of  the  shrill  calls  with  which  San 
Isidro  was  wont  to  call  his  porcine  companions.  Of 
course  every  novio  gives  one  to  his  sweetheart,  every 
small  boy  has  and  breaks  a  dozen,  and  every  little 
maid  rejoices  in  the  possession  of  two  or  three  at  least, 
for  the  pitas  are  quite  the  thing  for  San  Isidro's  day. 
Little  earthen  jars  for  the  blessed  water  are  also  on 
sale,  for  the  Hermitage  of  San  Isidro  may  well  be 
called  the  Lourdes  of  Spain,  and  anxious  mothers 
carry  away  bottles  of  the  miraculous  water  with  which 
to  bathe  the  fevered  brows  of  their  little  ones.  Booths 
are  erected  all  along  the  bluff  which  edges  the  river. 
These  are  for  refreshment,  pelota,  vaudeville,  merry- 

89 


THE    SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

go-rounds,  and,  of  course,  dancing,  for  all  manner  of 
men  dance  with  all  manner  of  maids.  Soldiers  in  uni- 
form, city  salesmen,  peasants  in  striped  hose;  every 
Darby  seeks  his  Joan  and  "  trips  the  light  fantastic 
toe  "  with  evident  enjoyment. 

Families  picnic  on  the  grass,  and  children  play  their 
happy  games,  often  in  Spain,  choral  in  character. 
Here  a  group  skips  about  in  a  favorite  grasshopper 
game,  clasping  their  hands  under  their  knees  and 
singing, 

"Grasshopper  sent  me  an  invitation 
To  come  and  share  his  occupation. 
Grasshopper  dear,  how  could  I  say  no  ? 
Here  I  go,  grasshopper,  here  I  go." 

Another  group  stretches  across  the  way  and  runs 
gaily  down  the  street,  hand  in  hand,  singing, 

"We  have  closed  the  street 
That  no  one  may  pass, 
Only  dear  grandpapa 
Leading  an  ass 
Laden  with  oranges 
Fresh  from, the  trees, 
Tilin !    Tilin ! 
Down  on  our  knees, 
Tilin !     Tilin ! 
The  bell  of  San  Augustin ! "     ' 

Then  the  youngsters  are  rebuked  for  mentioning  the 
name  of  any  saint  but  the  patron  of  the  day,  lest  he 
might  be  jealous  and  fail  to  bless  them,  —  a  rather 
unsaintlike  proceeding,  yet  not  unlikely  according 

90 


FETES    AND    FESTAS 

to    Spanish    ideas,    for    Spanish    saints    are    very 
human. 

Other  festas  are  interesting  because  of  the  attri- 
butes of  the  various  saints.  San  Juan's  day  (June 
23)  is  supposed  to  be  a  Christian  feast,  but  really  is 
Cupid's  festa.  Early  in  the  morning  the  senorita 
steals  out  to  wash  her  face  in  the  fountain,  for  this 
will  gain  her  a  novio,  or  insure  the  constancy  of  the 
one  she  already  possesses.  Rosemary  and  verbena  are 
gathered  and  burned  as  love  charms,  while  the  gypsy 
cake  shops  are  full  of  little  heart-shaped  cakes.  All 
along  the  streets  are  tiny  tables  set  out,  covered  with 
nougat,  honey  cake,  and  fruit,  while  dolls  and  toys  are 
provided  for  the  smallest  votaries  of  San  Juan. 

San  Antonio's  day  (June  13)  is  celebrated  in  the 
villages  in  much  the  same  way,  with  street  booths, 
flags,  lanterns,  and  merry-go-rounds,  whirling  full  of 
happy  children.  In  the  very  small  places  prizes  are 
offered  for  the  best  head  of  hair  in  the  village,  for  the 
handsomest  Manila  shawl,  for  the  best  dancing;  for, 
of  course,  there  is  always  dancing  at  these  festivals. 
Sometimes  the  music  will  be  but  the  tinkle  of  one  or 
two  guitars,  sometimes  the  village  will  have  the  dis- 
tinction of  possessing  a  barrel  organ,  but  the  dancing 
will  be  as  gay  with  the  one  as  with  the  other. 

This  feast  of  St.  Anthony  of  Padua  must  not  be 
confused  with  the  feast  of  another  St.  Anthony,  oc- 
curring on  January  27.  This  saint  is  the  patron  of 

91 


THE    SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

mules  and  horses,  and  all  such  are  blessed  upon  his 
name  day,  called  las  vueltas  de  San  Anton. 

Such  a  motley  array  of  four-footed  devotees  has 
this  animal-loving  saint!  Especially  droll  looking 
are  the  mules  and  donkeys,  for  these  are  clipped  in 
patterns,  and  there  are  styles  of  clipping  as  marked 
as  the  fashions  in  the  latest  Paris  bonnet  or  the  proper 
method  of  wearing  a  mantilla. 

The  legs  and  under  part  of  the  body  are  left  with 
their  winter  coat  on,  while  the  head  and  upper  half 
of  Balaam's  friend  and  confidant  is  clipped  into  pat- 
terns elaborate  and  curious.  The  shoulders  of  one  se- 
date little  donkey  shows  the  pomegranate,  Granada's 
emblem;  another,  a  cross;  still  another,  a  bouquet 
of  flowers ;  and  the  hind  quarters  are  decorated  with 
all  manner  of  devices,  hearts,  arrows,  daggers,  guitars, 
and  beautifully  wrought  scrolls. 

The  gypsies  do  this  work,  and  sometimes  it  is  so  ar- 
tistically done  that  the  patterns  look  as  if  they  were 
embroidered. 

Mules  and  donkeys  would  seem  to  be  more  popular 
than  horses  in  Spain,  and  those  brought  in  from  the 
country  to  be  blessed  on  San  Antonio's  day  are  gaily 
caparisoned.  Often  their  heads  are  decorated  with  a 
net  of  scarlet  silk,  and  the  saddle-bags,  thrown  across 
their  backs,  are  made  of  the  gayest  striped  cloth. 
There  are  rows  of  silver  bells,  too,  tinkling  gaily  from 
the  bridles,  not  for  ornament  only,  but,  as  in  all 

92 


FETES    AND    FESTAS 

countries  where  roads  are  winding  and  mountainous, 
to  warn  people  of  approach,  so  they  may  seek  a  wide 
spot  in  which  to  pass  each  other. 

The  blessing  of  the  animals  is  a  function  attended 
with  considerable  excitement.  Horses  neigh,  oxen 
low,  donkeys  bray,  and  attendants  —  expostulate! 
The  mules,  especially,  make  it  lively,  for  they  present 
heels  with  the  greatest  alacrity  and  precision,  every 
time  their  owners  try  to  get  them  up  to  the  priest,  to 
receive  the  barley  wafer  prepared  for  their  delecta- 
tion. Once  there,  they  take  marked  interest  in  the 
procedings  and  cause  grave  anxiety  to  the  good  padre, 
who  is  not  as  great  a  lover  of  four-footed  beasts  as 
was  his  saintly  predecessor.  The  mules  nibble  at  his 
stole,  chew  his  soutane,  prance  on  two  legs,  and  whirl 
about  him  till  his  head  is  dizzy,  and,  good  old  man 
though  he  is,  his  thoughts  are  likely  to  be  quite  the 
reverse  of  the  blessings  his  lips  utter,  in  the  quaint 
prayers  of  the  ceremony. 

If  one  may  judge  from  their  behavior,  the  Church's 
blessing  does  little  to  improve  the  equine  character, 
whatever  it  may  do  in  the  way  of  warding  off  dangers, 
for  the  animals  frisk  and  dance,  caracole  and  prance, 
until  pandemonium  reigns,  and  the  whole  town  is  glad 
when  the  Fete  of  San  Anton  is  ended. 

Christmas  is  not,  perhaps,  so  much  made  of  in 
Spain  as  other  festivals,  and  la  Noche  Buena  (Christ- 
mas Eve)  is  really  of  more  importance.  The  churches 

93 


THE    SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

are  brilliantly  lighted,  music  is  everywhere,  bonfires 
are  started,  booths  and  shops  are  gay  with  ribbons, 
flowers,  and  lights;  within  are  piles  of  mazapanes, 
jaleas,  and  turrones.  The  markets  overflow  with  pyr- 
amids of  oranges,  lemons,  and  melons,  and  every- 
where one  sees  the  pasteboard  groups  of  the  Nativity 
with  their  terra  cotta  figures,  which  the  children  love 
so  dearly,  and  which  are  lighted  up  in  the  houses  of 
the  rich  and  poor  alike. 

This  nacimiento  is  the  thing  above  all  others  which 
delights  the  heart  of  the  Spaniard.  There,  in  a  man- 
ger surrounded  with  greens,  lies  the  figure  of  the  In- 
fant Christ;  near  by  stand  St.  Joseph  and  Our  Lady, 
and  the  Wise  Men  worshipping  the  Holy  Child.  An- 
gels are  hovering  near,  and  one  sees  also  the  ox  and 
the  ass  who  were  the  first  worshippers. 

In  Madrid,  on  Christmas  Eve,  the  Plaza  Mayor 
fairly  swarms  with  good  cheer.  Turkeys,  driven  in 
flocks  from  the  country,  protest  loudly  at  their  pros- 
pective untimely  ending.  Donkeys  bray  noisily, 
scarce  to  be  seen  under  their  loads  of  pigeons,  ducks, 
and  geese,  and  to  the  din  are  added  the  sounds  of  mer- 
riment from  the  common  people  whose  Noche  Buena 
it  is.  Tambourines  jangle,  guitars  tinkle,  little  feet 
twinkle  in  the  dance,  voices,  more  or  less  musical  ac- 
cording to  the  age  and  sex  of  the  singer  sing  lustily, 

"This  is  the  eve  of  Christmas 
Let  us  drink  and  have  our  fill ! " 
94 


a 

f 

5 

CO 


A  Woman  of  Seville   (Alfred  de   Roulet) 


FETES    AND    FESTAS 

Character  students  should  visit  the  Plaza  Mayor  on 
Christmas  Eve.  There  they  can  study  the  common 
people  au  naturel,  as  they  disport  themselves  in  all  of 
the  abandon  of  a  holiday.  Criadas*  Gallegos,  chil- 
dren, all  dance  and  sing  alike,  joyously  and  wildly,  until 
the  bells  of  the  midnight  mass  call  the  piously  inclined 
to  recollect  the  why  and  the  wherefore  of  the  feast. 
On  Christmas  Day  all  the  servants  expect  presents 
from  everybody  in  the  family,  and  are  remembered 
down  to  the  postman,  the  errand  boy,  and  the  slavey 
who  blacks  one's  boots. 

New  Year's  Day  is  the  next  fete,  and,  according  to 
Spanish  folklore,  whatever  happens  on  this  day,  will 
determine  the  luck  of  the  entire  year. 

If  a  man  has  gold  in  his  pocket  at  the  New  Year's 
dawn,  riches  will  come  to  him,  but  if  he  has  empty 
pockets,  he  will  be  poor  the  whole  year  round.  It  is 
good  luck  to  meet  a  wealthy  man  as  you  leave  the 
house  the  first  time  during  the  New  Year,  ill  luck  to 
meet  a  beggar;  but  these  sayings  seem  strangely  at 
variance  with  the  Spanish  nature,  which,  as  a  rule,  is 
careless  of  money  matters. 

The  tertulia  held  on  New  Year's  Eve  is  one  of  the 
quaintest  things  in  the  way  of  Spanish  fetes,  for  at  it, 
slips  of  paper,  numbered  in  pairs,  are  given  to  each 
guest,  and  those  drawing  the  same  numbers  are  said 
to  be  amigos  for  the  coming  year.  The  senor  must 

*  Working  girls. 

95 


THE    SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

send  the  senorita  a  gift  and  is  expected  to  be  her  cav- 
alier at  all  social  functions  until  the  next  New  Year 
comes  around. 

Merriest  of  all  fetes  for  children  is  the  Feast  of  the 
Three  Kings,  when  they  receive  gifts  as  do  the  chil- 
dren of  other  countries  on  Christmas  Day.  It  is  the 
Church's  feast  of  the  Epiphany,  and  gifts  are  given 
because  on  that  day  the  Wise  Men  brought  gifts  to 
our  Lord.  On  the  Eve  of  the  Epiphany  (January 
6 )  the  balconies  of  Spanish  houses  are  filled  with  little 
shoes,  each  with  a  wisp  of  straw  in  it  for  the  Magi's 
horses,  and  many  are  the  goodies  the  little  folks  will 
find  in  their  shoes  when  morning  breaks. 

In  Madrid  a  curious  custom  prevails  of  going  out 
by  night  to  meet  the  Magi,  and  groups  of  young  men 
may  be  seen  rushing  from  one  city  gate  to  another, 
with  bunches  of  straw  in  their  hands. 

"  Patience!  "  they  cry,  "  they  are  at  the  Puerta  de 
Alcala! " 

"  No,  it  is  at  the  Puerta  del  Toledo''  and  when  the 
morning  sun  rises  red  and  glorious  in  the  eastern  sky, 
they  go  home  disconsolate,  saying,  "  Next  year  they 
will  surely  come!" 

Carnival  time  is  the  next  great  excitement  to  the 
festa-loving  Spaniards,  and  this  is  quite  the  "mad- 
dest, merriest  time  in  all  the  glad  New  Year."  Bec- 
quer  calls  it  the  "  periodic  explosion  of  freedom  and 
folly,"  and  to  the  Anglo-Saxon  it  savors  of  bacchan- 

96 


FETES    AND    FESTAS 

alian  festivities.  Not  in  the  way  of  drinkables,  how- 
ever, for  the  Spaniards  are  a  peculiarly  temperate  race, 
and  in  all  the  revel  of  the  last  days  before  the  dulness 
of  the  Lenten  season,  there  is  no  drunkenness;  in- 
deed, one  may  travel  from  one  end  of  Spain  to  the 
other  and  never  see  a  drunken  man. 

Carnival  time  is  but  the  season  for  taking  all  the 
world  as  a  merry  jest.  Dignity  is  turned  upside 
down,  proprieties  are  topsy-turvy,  the  beggar  calls 
the  Senora  Dona,  "tu"  the  cavalier  dresses  as  a  por- 
diosero,  the  grandee  is  a  monk,  the  water-carrier  is 
a  courtier.  The  discontent  which  lurks  in  every 
human  breast  shows  itself  at  Carnival  time,  for  every 
one  who  masks,  invariably  chooses  to  portray  a  char- 
acter exactly  the  reverse  of  what  he  is  in  real  life.  In 
Madrid,  the  Prado  is  the  gayest  of  sights  from  the 
last  Sunday  before  Lent  until  Ash  Wednesday  ter- 
minates the  festivities  with  the  "  burial  of  the  sar- 
dine." During  the  Carnival,  from  noon  till  midnight, 
the  beautiful  driveway  is  crowded  with  carriages,  the 
occupants  of  some  of  which  have  paid  as  high  as  ten 
dollars  a  day  for  the  privilege  of  driving  up  and  down 
without  keeping  to  the  file.  This  sum  goes  to  charity, 
and  by  this  means  as  much  as  fifteen  thousand  dollars 
has  been  raised  in  a  single  Carnival  for  charity  or- 
ganizations. In  and  about  among  the  carriages  run 
the  maskers,  leaping  in  and  out,  and  it  is  rather 
startling  at  times  for  an  innocent  senorita  to  see  sud- 

97 


THE    SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

denly  beside  her  the  reddest  of  devils,  with  hoofs, 
horns  and  tail,  and  to  have  His  Satanic  Majesty 
shower  her  with  confetti  or  pour  out  his  soul  in  a 
passion  of  devotion  which  would  do  credit  to  a  ro- 
mancer of  the  old  school. 

Rich  and  poor  alike  join  in  the  festival,  wasting  the 
price  of  a  dinner  or  a  chateau  on  a  day's  merriment. 
The  confetti  sellers  throng  the  streets  with  trays  sus- 
pended from  cords  about  their  necks  and  do  a  thriving 
business.  Everywhere  one  hears  their  shrill  cries. 
"  Confetti!  Five  centimes  a  packet!  Confetti, 
showers  of  a  million  colors !  "  calls  one,  while  another 
screams  shrilly,  "  He  robs  you,  senora,  buy  of  me! 
Confetti,  only  a  pero  chico! " 

The  thing  most  remarkable  about  this  liberty  is  that 
there  is  no  license,  and  peasant  and  noble  alike  enter- 
tain themselves  with  Spanish  courtesy  and  good 
breeding. 

Carnival  over,  the  sardine  is  buried  with  great  pomp, 
a  ceremony  attended  with  different  customs  in  differ- 
ent parts  of  Spain.  In  gay  Seville,  a  bit  of  pork  the 
size  and  shape  of  a  sardine  is  buried  deep,  to  show 
that  Lent  with  its  diet  of  fish  has  arrived.  In  Madrid 
a  sausage  link  is  taken  out  to  the  brink  of  the  river 
and  interred  beside  the  turgid  Manzanares. 

Ashes  are  then  marked  upon  .the  foreheads  of  good 
Catholics,  and  with  Ash  Wednesday  end  for  six  long 
and  dreary  weeks,  fete  and  festa  in  Spain. 

98 


FETES    AND    FESTAS 

Taking  their  pleasures  gayly,  the  Spaniards  take 
their  penances  equally  hard.  In  former  years  it 
was  the  pleasing  custom  for  courtiers  to  scourge  them- 
selves publicly  in  the  Church  of  St.  Gines  or  to 
cut  themselves  with  whips  upon  the  very  sidewalks 
where  "  la  senorita  "  passed  by.  Very  proud  was  the 
inamorata  if  she  was  blood-besprinkled  by  her  pious 
novio  as  she  passed  him  by,  and  even  the  coyest  could 
not  withhold  her  smiles  after  such  proof  of  love  and 
devotion. 

Modern  impiety  has  interfered  somewhat  with  the 
practice,  but  during  the  six  weeks  of  Lent,  people 
throng  the  churches,  and  candles,  burning  at  every 
shrine,  light  up  the  dim  interiors  and  throw  into  bold 
relief  the  snowy  statues  of  the  saints  which  gleam 
from  every  niche. 

The  only  things  remotely  resembling  festas  are 
the  penitential  processions  which  wind  through  the 
streets,  and  the  sacred  plays  and  mysteries,  the  old 
miracle  plays  of  the  Middle  Ages,  not  reproduced, 
but  still  extant.  One  is  reminded  of  Oberammergau 
by  these  miracle  plays,  uncommonly  well  done  though 
generally  containing  anachronisms  patent  to  the  crit- 
ical. But  what  matter?  "  The  play  's  the  thing,"  and 
if  the  Jewish  High  Priest  is  dressed  like  the  Pope  and 
the  Blessed  Virgin  is  attired  as  if  she  had  just  stepped 
down  from  one  of  Murillo's  Sixteenth  Century  paint- 
ings, the  drama  is  filled  with  scenes  calculated  to  play 

99 


THE    SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

upon  the  chords  of  dramatic  sentiment  in  every  Span- 
ish heart.  Very  deep  are  these  sentiments.  One  sees 
that  when  one  realizes  that  the  miracle  plays  repre- 
senting the  Passion  are  forced  to  omit  the  character 
of  Judas  Iscariot,  because  the  spectators  revile  him 
so  terribly.  In  a  country  place,  at  a  more  than 
usually  realistic  performance  the  unfortunate  Judas 
was  set  upon  by  the  mob  and  narrowly  escaped  the 
knife.  This  tragic  view  of  the  situation  will  still  be 
found  in  out  of  the  way  corners  of  Spain,  where 
primitive  passions  prevail,  untainted  by  modern  in- 
vention and  modern  realism.  There  one  can  see 
the  feminine  portion  of  the  audience  at  a  miracle 
play  weeping  loudly  at  the  scenes  of  the  Pas- 
sion, and  even  the  masculine  element  exclaiming 
over  the  sorrows  of  Christ,  "  Ay  de  pobre  Jesus! 
La  dolor osa  Maria  santissima! "  The  play  is  to 
them  an  illustrated  sermon,  and  it  appeals  to  all  that 
is  best  and  strongest  in  Spanish  nature,  the  emotional, 
the  dramatic,  and  the  element  of  unquestioning 
faith. 

Similar  in  feeling  are  the  pasos  or  floats  in  the 
Holy  Week  processions  with  their  marvellous  statues. 
These  processions  take  place  on  Good  Friday.  Holy 
Thursday  has  brought  its  celebrations.  Everyone 
has  visited  the  churches.  Even  the  King  and  Queen 
have  walked  bareheaded  over  the  sand-laid  streets, 
through  which  no  carriage  may  pass  on  that  day. 

100 


FETES    AND    FESTAS 

The  Queen  also  has  washed  the  feet  of  seven  beggars, 
the  churches  are  veiled  in  penitential  purple,  and 
when  Good  Friday  dawns  the  gloom  deepens.  Every 
one  is  in  funereal  garb,  —  sorrow  reigns. 

There  are  processions  in  many  cities,  notably  Gra- 
nada, Seville,  and  Valencia,  but  that  of  Murcia  is  es- 
pecially interesting;  for  on  quaint  Murcia,  Time's 
finger  has  been  lightly  laid  and  as  yet  the  demon 
Change  has  entered  not.  In  the  days  when  the  Moors 
ruled  this  portion  of  Spain,  they  drove  the  Christians 
into  the  suburbs  and  compelled  them  to  live  by  them- 
selves in  certain  districts,  as  in  later  days,  the  Christ- 
ians segregated  the  Jews.  This  treatment  at  the 
hands  of  the  Moors  had  the  good  effect  of  bringing  the 
Christians  more  closely  together,  and  many  religious 
organizations  were  established,  which  later  became 
confraternities  devoted  to  special  objects.  The  Con- 
fraternity of  Our  Father  Jesus,  founded  in  1600,  was 
for  the  special  purpose  of  keeping  up  the  pasos  for 
the  processions. 

These  pasos  are  superb  carvings  of  scenes  from  the 
Passion,  and  tradition  says  that  the  custom  of  carry- 
ing them  in  procession  on  Good  Friday  has  existed 
since  1603.  The  present  form  of  procession  has  ex- 
isted since  1690  and  the  pasos  in  use  to-day  date  from 
1736,  being  the  work  of  the  immortal  Salzillo.  This 
great  master  lived  from  1707  to  1783  and  there  are 
ascribed  to  him  no  less  than  1792  sculptures  in  wood. 

101 


THE     SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

These  are  genuine  works  of  art  and  have  none  of  the 
stiffness  of  the  ordinary  wood  carving.  They  are 
unique  in  that  they  are  colored,  —  a  purely  Spanish 
art,  and  they  are  not  only  superbly  executed  artisti- 
cally but  are  full  of  feeling  and  sentiment. 

That  these  wooden  sculptures  have  been  so  mar- 
vellously preserved  to  us  after  all  these  years  is  due 
to  the  Confraternity  of  Our  Father  Jesus.  This 
brotherhood  was  supported  materially  during  the 
Middle  Ages  by  the  various  trade  guilds  of  Murcia, 
which  played  no  unimportant  part  in  the  making  of 
history  in  those  days  of  strife.  Each  guild  took  the 
care  of  a  certain  paso  and  the  members  were  allowed 
the  privilege  of  carrying  their  special  sculpture  in  the 
Good  Friday  Procession.  These  bearers  robed  them- 
selves in  deep  violet  and  carried  burning  candles  or 
musical  instruments.  The  Weavers'  Guild  carried  the 
group  representing  the  Meeting  of  Christ  with  St. 
Veronica;  the  Bakers'  Guild  bore  the  paso  of  the  Be- 
trayal of  Christ  by  Judas;  the  Carpenters  were  as- 
sociated with  the  Fall  of  Christ  under  the  Weight  of 
the  Cross;  the  Rope  Makers'  Guild  with  Our  Lady 
of  Sorrows;  the  Tailors  with  the  Last  Supper;  the 
Gardeners'  Guild  with  the  Agony  in  the  Garden. 
The  office  of  carrying  the  pasos  would  not  seem  to 
have  been  a  sinecure! 

According  to  the  rules  of  the  Confraternity  the 
bearers  were  to  "  assemble  at  the  gate  of  the  hermi- 

102 


FETES    AND    FESTAS 

tage  of  Our  Holy  Father  Jesus,  at  which  place  is 
displayed  the  standard  of  the  Confraternity,  with- 
out looking  to  the  right  hand  or  the  left,  barefooted 
and  in  silence,  under  pain  of  a  fine  of  half  a  pound 
of  wax." 

In  the  old  days  the  standard-bearer  headed  the  pro- 
cession surrounded  by  a  group  of  boy  heralds  who 
proclaimed  aloud,  "  This  is  in  honor  of  the  Passion 
of  Our  Lord  Jesus  Christ! "  Other  children  swing- 
ing bells  and  blowing  trumpets  followed,  and  after 
the  youthful  trumpeters  came  the  first  five  pasos  car- 
ried by  their  appropriate  bearers,  clad  in  purple  robes, 
each  guild  vying  with  the  others  to  have  the  richest 
decorations  for  their  special  paso.  Following  these 
was  the  "paso  of  Our  Father  Jesus,"  attended  with 
the  beating  of  drums,  blowing  of  bugles,  together 
with  flowers  and  lights.  Then  followed  the  remaining 
pasos  carried  by  their  respective  guilds,  a  representa- 
tive of  the  King,  the  bishop,  clergy,  and  prominent 
citizens. 

To-day  there  is  almost  no  change  in  the  procession, 
each  detail  being  carried  out  as  carefully  as  it  wras 
two  hundred  years  ago.  Midiasvalism  dies  hard  in 
Murcia  and  the  conservatism  of  the  Murcian  char- 
acter has  happily  preserved  the  ancient  mag- 
nificence of  this  ceremonial  in  all  its  splendor. 
One  sop  to  the  Cerberus  of  modernism  there  is, 
and  one  smiles  to  see  that  the  present  day  Mur- 

103 


THE    SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

ciano  goes  not  forth  barefooted  over  the  hard 
road  to  Calvary.  Still,  dramatic  instincts  being 
as  strong  in  Murcia  as  in  the  rest  of  Spain,  the 
scenic  effect  must  be  preserved,  and  twentieth  cen- 
tury shoes  are  barred  by  the  eternal  verities  quite  as 
much  as  feet  au  naturel  are  objected  to  on  the  ground 
of  material  comfort.  With  his  violet  tunic  belted  with 
a  knotted  girdle  like  the  Franciscan's  cord,  his  head 
covered  with  a  violet  hood  which  pulls  down  over  his 
face,  leaving  a  slit  for  the  eyes  in  very  much  the  same 
fashion  as  does  the  hood  of  the  Florentine  Brothers  of 
Pity,  the  Brother  of  Our  Father  Jesus  wears  upon 
his  feet  white  woollen  hose  —  droll  compromise  be- 
tween mediaeval  piety  and  modern  comfort! 

One  scarcely  wonders,  however,  that  the  Brothers 
need  some  protection  for  their  feet,  for  the  way  is 
rough,  the  pasos  are  terribly  heavy  and  the  Murcian 
air  blows  sharp  and  chill  from  the  white  sierras. 

The  weight  of  the  pasos  is  considerable,  varying  as 
the  groups  vary  in  size.  The  Last  Supper  is  the 
largest  and  weighs  twenty-five  hundred  pounds,  and 
requires  four  and  twenty  strong  men  to  carry  it ;  but 
to  do  this  is  esteemed  such  an  honor  that  the  position 
of  bearer  is  eagerly  sought  after  by  the  best  men  of 
the  city.  When  the  procession  is  over,  a  feast  is 
prepared  for  the  wooden  figures,  good  Murcian 
housekeepers  vying  with  each  other  in  preparing  the 
greatest  delicacies  for  the  banquet.  Lambs  are  roasted 

104 


FETES    AND    FESTAS 

whole,  capons  are  stuffed  with  olives,  oranges  and 
pomegranates  are  heaped  in  glowing  mounds ;  dates, 
figs,  nuts,  and  sweetmeats  are  served  to  the  wooden 
apostles,  —  a  strangely  incongruous  proceeding  it 
would  seem,  yet,  after  all,  it  produces  good  results, 
for  these  delicacies  are  afterward  sold  at  auction  and 
bring  wonderfully  high  prices.  They  are  considered 
to  bring  good  fortune  to  such  as  partake  of  them,  and 
people  will  pay  almost  any  price  to  obtain  "  the  holy 
viands." 

"  I  have  eaten  an  orange  from  the  plate  of  San 
Pedro  at  five  pesetas"  *  proudly  boasts  one  fair  dame, 
to  be  met  with  the  response  from  a  very  superior 
friend, 

"  Pero,  senora,  we  have  dined  upon  the  roast  lamb 
of  the  Senor  Jesus,  at  a  cost  of  twenty  escudos"  t 

The  proceeds  of  this  sale  are  divided  among  the 
bearers  of  the  group,  so  that  they  are  well  paid  for 
their  arduous  labors  in  carrying  this  weight  of  piety. 
The  story  is  told  of  one  of  the  bearers,  a  Murcian 
wag,  who  must  have  had  a  drop  of  Catalan  blood  in 
his  veins,  for  he  went  around  the  day  before  the  festa 
whispering  to  every  woman  of  his  acquaintance  the 
wonders  of  the  feast,  hoping  thus  to  run  up  prices  and 
incidentally  increase  his  share  of  the  proceeds. 

"  Senora,"  to  the  wife  of  the  baker,  "  the  wife  of 
your  neighbor  is  preparing  a  capon  of  a  fatness  equal 

*  $1.25.  t  $10.00. 

105 


THE     SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

to  that  of  her  husband.  I  do  not  believe  that  there 
will  be  anything  at  the  feast  so  fine!  " 

The  Senora  del  Hornero  being  at  sword's  point 
with  her  neighbor  la  Senora  del  Herrero,  naturally 
replies, 

ffPero  non,  senor,  but  you  should  see  the  pheasants 
which  will  roast  for  me  in  the  village  ovens,"  and  she 
promptly  flies  to  buy  the  best  the  town  affords.  Senor 
Murciano  smiles,  well  pleased,  and  hies  him  to  la 
Dona  del  Barbero  to  say, 

"  The  Senora  of  the  Baker  and  she  of  the  Black- 
smith, of  a  truth  they  think  their  gifts  to  the  pasos 
the  finest  in  the  city.  Indeed  I  have  told  them  that 
you  gave  a  lamb  worth  three  times  their  fowls!  "  La 
senora  was  by  nature  thrifty,  if  not,  indeed,  parsimo- 
nious. She  had  perhaps  meant  to  bargain  a  bit  with 
the  saints,  and  not  buy  quite  so  expensive  a  luxury  as 
lamb,  but  she  answered  sturdily, 

"  You  spoke  of  a  truth,  as  always,  senor,"  and  has- 
tened to  the  market  to  procure  the  finest  and  juciest 
of  joints,  while  el  senor  went  his  evil  way  rejoicing. 
The  result  of  his  day's  work  was  that  never  had  there 
been  such  a  feast  prepared  for  the  pasos  as  that  year, 
and  the  proceeds  swelled  the  pockets  of  the  bearers 
as  never  before. 

Artistically  considered,  the  Last  Supper,  despite 
its  anachronisms,  is  wonderfully  fine.  The  figure  of 
Christ  is  seated  in  a  Louis  Quinze  chair  and  the  Apos- 

106 


FETES    AND    FESTAS 

ties  are  all  perched  upon  seventeenth  century  stools, 
but  the  expressions  are  so  full  of  dignity,  that  the 
tout  ensemble  is  exceedingly  effective. 

The  paso  of  the  Agony  in  the  Garden  is  considered 
the  finest  of  all  the  groups,  and  Murcianos  tell  with 
pride  that  the  Duke  of  Wellington  offered  four  hun- 
dred thousand  dollars  for  the  figure  of  the  angel 
alone.  Studying  this  figure,  one  does  not  wonder 
that  it  appealed  to  the  artistic  sense  of  the  Iron 
Duke,  for  there  is  not  another  piece  of  wood  carv- 
ing in  the  world  that  is  its  superior.  The  angel  is 
pointing  to  a  palm  tree  in  which  rests  a  golden 
chalice;  and  there  is  an  airy,  floating  grace  about  the 
figure,  and  a  sublimely  human  expression  upon  the 
face  of  the  Christ,  which  makes  one  appreciate  the 
legend  as  to  its  design.  Tradition  says  that  Salzillo 
made  a  dozen  sketches  for  this  design,  none  of  which 
pleased  him.  One  night  he  worked  late,  despair  gnaw- 
ing at  his  heart,  when  he  heard  a  knock  at  the  door. 
"  Good  senor,  let  me  in,"  said  a  voice.  "  I  am  poor 
and  need  a  lodging  for  the  night."  Salzillo  was 
pious  and  kind.  "  Enter,  brother,  in  the  name  of 
God,"  he  said,  and  opened  to  an  old  man,  to  whom 
he  gave  a  room  for  the  night,  locking  him  in  as  a 
prophylactic  measure,  for  strangers  in  the  seven- 
teenth century  were  regarded  with  as  much  suspicion 
as  at  the  present  day.  In  the  morning  when  the 
artist  went  to  call  his  guest  he  had  disappeared,  and 

107 


THE    SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

in  payment  for  his  lodgings  had  left  upon  the  table 
the  design  for  the  "  Agony  in  the  Garden." 

Of  the  other  pasos  the  "  Kiss  of  Judas  "  has  fear- 
fully realistic  touches,  as,  for  example,  the  spiritual 
face  of  Christ  in  such  close  proximity  to  the  coarse 
profile  of  the  betrayer,  seeming  to  emphasize  the 
horror  of  the  betrayal.  In  the  "  Flagellation  "  there 
is  a  lack  of  finish,  so  much  so  that  many  think  this 
paso  not  to  have  been  the  work  of  Salzillo  but  prob- 
ably that  of  one  of  his  pupils. 

The  other  groups  have  less  artistic  merit,  though 
the  last  of  the  series,  that  of  Our  Lady  of  Sorrows,  is 
marvellous  in  expression.  The  story  goes  that  the 
artist  could  not  succeed  in  finding  a  model  whose 
facial  expression  was  sufficiently  agonized  to  suit  the 
subject.  He  therefore  accused  his  wife  of  a  terrible 
crime,  and  straightway  transferred  her  expression  of 
anguish  and  horror  to  canvas.  Others  say  that  he 
forged  a  letter  to  his  daughter  telling  her  that  her 
affianced  husband  was  killed,  and  that  her  agony  at 
the  receipt  of  this  terrible  news  furnished  the  ex- 
pression he  desired.  One  prefers  to  think  that  so 
great  a  genius  as  Salzillo  could  imagine  the  expres- 
sion necessary  to  complete  his  art  and  need  not  resort 
to  such  expedients.  In  any  case,  the  expression  of 
Our  Lady's  face  is  the  work  of  genius,  so  haunting  is 
the  unspeakable  anguish  of  her  eyes,  so  mutely  pa- 
thetic the  droop  of  the  mobile  lips. 

108 


FETES    AND    FESTAS 

Draped  in  the  magnificent  brocaded  and  jewelled 
robes,  gifts  of  her  votaries,  crowned  with  stars,  sur- 
rounded with  flowers  and  myriads  of  candle  lights, 
the  figure  of  Our  Lady  of  Dolours  lingers  longest  in 
the  memory,  as  the  Passion  procession  winds  slowly 
down  the  streets  of  quaint  old  Murcia. 

After  the  dreariness  of  Lent,  culminating  in  the 
dolorous  season  of  Passion  Week,  Easter  Sunday 
dawns  bright  and  joyous  for  the  whole  nation.  At 
ten  o'clock  on  Sunday  morning  the  purple  curtain 
which  has  veiled  the  high  altar  of  the  Cathedral  is 
drawn  aside,  the  church  bells  peal  forth  the  signal, 
for  every  bell  in  the  city  to  ring  riotously  the  Easter 
fete.  Women  appear  in  white  mantillas  instead  of 
the  customary  black;  flowers  are  everywhere,  and  in 
the  afternoon  the  world  and  his  wife  go  to  the  bull- 
fight, the  finest  one  of  the  year. 

It  seems  rather  a  surprise  after  a  review  of  the 
year's  festas  to  find  any  which  lacks  the  element  of 
piety,  but  the  ferias  are  purely  worldly  in  character. 
They  exist  in  every  village,  town,  and  hamlet,  and, 
though  the  most  famous  is  that  of  Seville,  the  ferias 
of  even  country^  villages  present  features  novel  and 
interesting. 

In  the  village  pandemonium  is  let  loose.  Musicians 
parade  the  streets  and  the  plaza  is  crowded  with  gaily 
dressed  people.  Fireworks  are  set  off  at  night,  and 
set  pieces  of  every  imaginable  variety  are  displayed, 

109 


THE    SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

-  wheels,  towers,  trees,  wild  animals,  the  King,  and 
statesmen  all  outlined  in  flame.  Lanterns  are  swung 
from  poles  and  suspended  on  ropes  stretched  across 
the  streets.  Everywhere  is  heard  the  sound  of  cas- 
tanet  or  guitar,  and  everywhere  men  and  animals 
mingle  in  hopeless  confusion:  peasants,  mules,  calves, 
and  donkeys,  all  in  a  melange.  Everywhere  are 
street  venders,  chattering  of  their  wares.  Some  have 
trays  slung  by  ribbons  about  their  necks  and  dispense 
necessaries  like  thread,  pins,  and  tape.  Sellers  of 
spindles  and  distaffs  appear  oddly  enough  with  their 
wares  tied  about  their  waists,  sharing  the  public 
interest  with  hat  pedlers  who  look  like  minia- 
ture towers  of  Babel,  for  they  display  their  wares 
by  placing  one  hat  upon  their  head  and  surmount- 
ing this  with  one  above  the  other,  until  it  is  difficult 
for  them  to  walk  and  balance  their  many  storied 
crown. 

Spain's  democracy  is  shown,  too,  in  the  presence  of 
the  Sefior  of  La  Casa  Grande  with  his  family.  His 
hacienda  is  not  far  distant,  and  many  of  the  peasants 
are  pickers  in  his  orange  groves.  All  of  them  he 
knows;  indeed,  he  is  godfather,  or  the  senora,  his 
wife,  godmother  for  half  the  children  who  dance 
around  so  gayly.  Old  and  young  are  his  friends,  so 
of  course  he  is  present  and  interested  in  all  the  stock 
shows,  the  poultry,  the  swine,  and  the  huge  white 
oxen.  His  son,  graceless  scamp!  is  interested  in  the 

110 


FETES    AND    FESTAS 

village  beauties  when  he  is  not  playing  pranks  upon 
the  peasants.  These  pranks  but  endear  him  to  them, 
however,  much  as  they  may  scold,  and  well  they  know 
whom  to  scold  when  there  is  mischief  afoot!  It  was 
the  Senor  Juan,  of  course,  who  rushed  wildly  through 
the  crowd,  shouting  "  El  Toro!  El  Toro! "  when  a 
calf  strayed  from  its  mother  and  ran  about  the 
streets,  and  no  one  but  Juan  would  have  thought  of 
sprinkling  pepper  in  the  brazier  over  which  old  Pablo 
was  roasting  chestnuts!  More  serious  was  the  young 
senor's  latest  prank.  His  stately  mother  drove 
through  the  street  behind  the  magnificent  span  of 
Andalucian  horses,  pausing  a  moment  to  speak  to  old 
Panquita,  who  hobbled  to  the  side  of  the  carriage, 
and  who  had  been  the  senora's  ama,  hence  was  al- 
ways entitled  to  consideration.  Young  Juan  saw  his 
opportunity.  The  wooden  stand  of  a  chestnut  ven- 
der stood  close  to  the  carriage;  the  owner,  an  an- 
archistic old  fellow,  was  declaiming  to  a  rather  bored 
group  on  the  sidewalk  to  the  effect  that  "  titles  did 
not  make  the  man,  nor  want  of  them  the  fellow." 
Juan's  pocket  contained  a  cord,  so  happily  did  the 
powers  of  darkness  conspire  to  the  lad's  undoing! 
From  the  brain  to  the  hand  was  but  a  flash,  and 
the  chestnut  vender's  table  was  tied  to  the  back  of 
the  carriage.  Scarce  was  the  last  knot  tied  when  the 
coachman  cracked  his  whip  and  the  horses  started, 
the  senora  bowing  dignified  farewells  right  and 

111 


THE     SPANIARD     AT     HOME 

left,  scarce  noting  the  cries  which  followed  her 
departure. 

"  Name  of  a  saint "  bawled  the  chestnut  vender. 
"  My  stand  and  all  my  chestnuts!  Behold  it! "  and 
down  the  street  he  raced  after  the  carriage. 

Hopping  up  and  down,  the  table  seemed  possessed 
of  an  evil  spirit,  while  the  chestnuts  dancing  about  like 
wicked  little  elves  skipped  off  into  the  street  to  the 
infinite  delight  of  the  small  boys,  who  dashed  after  the 
carriage  in  a  wild,  glad  endeavor  to  obtain  some  of 
the  provender. 

"  Stop!  Stop!  "  yelled  the  vender.  "  My  table! 
My  chestnuts! " 

The  coachman  of  la  senora  stayed  not  his  chariot 
wheels.  Rather  he  drove  like  Jehu,  reincarnate. 
Had  he  not  once  walked,  a  boy  in  alpargatas,  over 
these  same  streets?  Now  that  he  had  attained  the 
proud  eminence  of  not  only  riding  upon  the  box  of 
the  senor's  coach,  but  of  driving  the  horses  of  the 
senora  as  well,  should  he  indeed  stop  because  of  the 
cries  of  villagers?  Not  he!  But  la  senora  was  not 
deaf.  The  shouts  and  laughter,  not  entirely  un- 
mingled  with  maledictions,  reached  her  ears,  and, 
turning  her  head,  she  saw  a  crowd  running. 

"  Stop,"  she  said  quietly  to  the  coachman,  and  he 
who  had  been  deaf  to  the  tumult  of  the  multitude 
heard.  The  senora  put  forth  her  head  from  the 
carriage. 


FETES    AND    FESTAS 

'  What  means  this?"  she  demanded.  Everybody 
talked  at  once. 

"Be  silent,  every  one!"  she  commanded;  then 
turning  to  her  son,  who  stood  with  the  crowd,  "  Juan, 
what  means  this?  " 

"  A  thousand  pardons,  senora  mi  madre,  but  you 
have  run  away  with  the  table  of  old  Miguel,  and  all 
his  chestnuts  are  spilled."  The  soft  voice  was  almost 
silky  in  the  velvet  of  its  cadences. 

"  I  have  done  this  —  and  how?  "  La  senora  eyed 
her  son  suspiciously. 

'  You  see,  my  mother,  some  mischievous  fellow  tied 
the  table  to  the  carriage,  —  doubtless  some  bad  boy  " ; 
the  young  man's  face  wore  a  look  of  grieved  surprise 
as  he  added,  "  Poor  old  Miguel!  I  am  truly  sorry 
for  him;  he  feels  his  loss  so  deeply." 

Miguel  was  rapidly  hobbling  down  the  street  after 
the  carriage,  expressing  his  feelings  of  loss  in  the 
most  frightful  curses  which  .had  ever  polluted  the 
senora's  ears. 

That  good  lady  had  not  lived  seventeen  years  with 
her  scapegrace  son  for  nothing.  She  inquired  no 
further. 

"  Some  bad  boy,  indeed! "  she  said.  "  You  do  well 
to  be  sorry  for  Miguel,  my  son,  but  we  should  always 
show  our  sorrow  for  the  poor  by  doing  something  for 
them.  Untie  the  stand  from  the  carriage  and  buy 
for  the  man  a  fresh  supply  of  chestnuts,  and  if  the 

113 


THE    SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

table  is  broken  have  it  mended.  My  purse?  Nay, 
son,  I  have  my  own  charities.  Take  your  own! 
Adios!  "  And  the  stately  lady  drove  on,  while  Juan 
did  her  bidding,  ruefully  gazing  into  his  purse,  de- 
pleted of  the  pesetas  he  had  meant  to  spend  at  the 
feria.  Meanwhile,  old  Miguel's  blessings  were  as 
ardent  as  had  been  his  curses,  and  Juan  smiled  as  he 
said  to  himself: 

"  Four  pesetas  to  that  old  rascal,  but  it  was  well 
worth  it!" 

A  new  festival  in  Spain  is  one  after  which  our  own 
countrymen  would  do  well  to  pattern.  This  is 
"Arbor  Day,"  held  in  Madrid  early  in  the  year, 
after  the  Winter's  chill  blasts  are  over  and  before  the 
Summer's  fierce  heat  has  marched  across  the  plains 
about  the  city  like  a  destroying  army,  until  the 
Spring's  green  carpet  on  the  flower-besprinkled 
meads  has  turned  all  parched  and  Jbrown.  Clever 
royalty  conceived  the  idea  of  planting  trees  upon 
this  Spanish  Campagna,  in  the  hope  of  making  the 
desert  bloom  like  the  rose.  Knowing  the  temper  of 
the  people,  it  was  understood  that  the  way  to  make 
an  innovation  a  success  was  to  call  it  a  festa,  and  the 
way  to  interest  the  parents  was  to  interest  the  chil- 
dren. Arbor  Day  is  therefore  made  a  fete  day  for 
all  the  children  of  Madrid.  Schools  are  closed  and 
everybody  is  in  holiday  attire.  All  the  little  folk 
dress  in  their  best,  the  boys  marching  from  the 

114 


FETES    AND    FESTAS 

Puerta  del  Sol,  often  twenty-five  hundred  youngsters 
in  line.  A  stream  of  spectators  follows,  pedestrians, 
coaches,  carriages,  traps,  and  all  manner  of  equi- 
pages. The  line  of  march  extends  along  the  Calle  de 
Alcala  until  the  outskirts  of  the  city  are  reached. 
Here  the  bare  and  barren  ground  has  been  prepared 
for  the  planting  of  trees,  and  ere  long  it  seems  as  if 
Birnam  wood  had  come  to  Dunsinane;  for  each 
laddie  plants  a  tree,  symbolic  of  his  young  and  vig- 
orous life,  the  hope  of  the  nation.  What  a  beauti- 
ful sight  it  is!  The  little  chaps  with  their  closely 
cropped  heads,  like  soft-napped  black  velvet,  their 
faces  solemn  and  earnest  as  childhood  ever  is  at  a 
function.  How  sweet  are  their  faces  as  they  sing  a 
sort  of  rhythmic  chant,  the  words  telling  of  the  doing 
of  good  deeds  which  may  live  for  others  after  the 
doer  is  dead,  as  the  trees  may  grow  and  thrive  and 
lend  their  grateful  shade  to  the  weary  passerby,  after 
the  hand  which  planted  them  has  withered  and  died. 
The  one  fete  in  Spain,  purely  national  in  character, 
is  that  of  the  Dos  de  Mayo.  It  seems  difficult  at 
times  to  celebrate  fetes  other  than  religious  in  Spain, 
but  this  holiday  of  the  Second  of  May  commemorates 
deeds  full  of  appeal  to  the  nation,  with  its  dislike  of 
aliens  and  its  love  of  everything  Spanish.  In  the 
Prado  rises  the  obelisk  of  the  Dos  de  Mayo,  with  all 
the  contrast  of  Spanish  character,  commemorating  in 
this  gayest  of  spots  the  deaths  of  the  heroes  who  fell 

115 


THE    SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

fighting  against  the  foreign  tyrant,  —  the  fact  that 
he  was  foreign  being  even  worse  in  the  eyes  of  the 
populace  than  that  he  was  a  tyrant.  When  Murat 
entered  Spain  as  conqueror,  he  showed  his  power  by 
throwing  into  prison  some  scores  of  men,  women,  and 
priests.  He  tried  them  with  a  mockery  of  justice, 
quite  after  the  manner  of  the  classic  which  says : 

"'111  be  judge,  I'll  be  jury' 

Said  cunning  old  Fury, 
*  I  '11  try  the  whole  crowd,  and  condemn  them  to  death, ' ' 

Of  this  massacre  the  immortal  Gova  has  painted 
the  story  until  it  is  red  in  the  heart  of  every  Spaniard. 
The  canvas  fairly  reeks  with  gore.  Above  is  a  sombre 
sky,  lit  up  only  by  the  flickering  glare  of  lanterns; 
the  street  is  piled  with  heaps  of  slain,  and  blood  runs 
red  to  the  very  house  doors.  Three  officers  of  artillery 
whose  names  were  Jacinto  Ruiz,  Luiz  Daoiz,  and  Pe- 
dro Velarde  refused  to  fire  upon  their  fellow  country- 
men, and  the  heroic  three  were  killed  as  rebels.  Their 
faces  are  carved  upon  the  obelisk,  but  there  is  no 
commemoration  of  the  equally  heroic  Alcalde  of  Mos- 
toles,  to  whom  was  due  the  Peninsular  War. 

The  Alcalde  heard  of  the  fearsome  doings  at 
Madrid,  and  in  the  little  square  of  Mostoles,  a  vil- 
lage near  Madrid,  he  addressed  a  throng  of  earnest- 
faced  men: 

"Brothers,  are  we  not  Spaniards?  Do  you  know 
that  Spaniards  are  dying  in  Madrid,  butchered  like 

116 


FETES    AND    FESTAS 

swine  in  the  slaughter  pens,  shot  down  by  strangers, 
left  to  rot  like  beasts  of  the  field?  Shall  we  tarry  till 
we  too  die  the  death  of  the  stranger?  " 

"  Never!  "  was  the  answer.    "  Let  us  arise!  " 
To  say  was  to  do,  and  in  a  week  the  country  was 
aroused.      Joseph    Bonaparte,    Napoleon's    brother 
and  tool,  was  expelled,  and  the  Peninsular  War  was 
in  full  swing. 

On  each  recurring  anniversary,  at  every  altar  in 
the  city,  mass  is  celebrated  for  the  victims  of  the  Dos 
de  Mayo,  and  in  the  early  morning  tolling  bells  and 
salvos  of  artillery  do  honor  to  the  heroic  dead.  All 
the  houses  are  draped  in  black  and  garlanded  in 
cypress,  while  the  streets  teem  with  a  veritable  swarm 
of  people.  As  a  matter  of  course,  a  parade  is  neces- 
sary to  a  proper  celebration,  and  this  procession  is 
one  of  the  most  magnificent  sights  in  Spain.  First 
comes  a  regiment  of  cavalry  in  blue  uniforms  with 
silver  trimmings;  next,  from  the  asylums  and  public 
institutions,  such  poor  as  are  able  to  walk;  then  pen- 
sioners from  the  army  and  navy,  followed  by  more 
cavalry,  regiments  of  infantry,  municipal  officials, 
deputies,  senators,  army  officers,  prefects,  and,  finally, 
the  King  and  his  staff,  surrounded  by  the  Royal 
Guards  in  resplendent  uniforms.  The  Prado  is  a 
mass  of  people  packed  solid,  intent  upon  amusing 
themselves  and  honoring  the  dead.  It  is  indeed  the 
national  holiday,  popular  and  democratic.  Landaus 

117 


THE    SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

with  fashionably  dressed  occupants,  and  whose  car- 
riage shades  are  tied  with  crape,  are  preceded  by 
donkey-carts  full  of  peasants,  and  these  in  turn  are 
followed  by  smart  English  traps,  with  the  most  irre- 
proachable of  footmen.  Everywhere  are  flags  and 
banners;  tapers  are  lighted,  crucifixes  draped  in 
black,  and,  climax  of  woe,  little  cakes  are  sold  every- 
where, tied  with  crape! 

These  "  baked  funeral  meats,"  scarce  cold,  are 
eaten  greedily  by  young  and  old  as  the  day  goes  by, 
for  the  sun  is  hot  and  the  tramp  from  the  Puerta  del 
Sol  to  the  monument  is  slow,  for  the  paraders  will 
dawdle  along  the  line  of  march;  yet  who  can  com- 
plain, for  is  not  this  the  one  and  only  great  national 
holiday? 


118 


CHAPTER   VI 

AMUSEMENTS 

A  MUSEMENTS  in  Spain  vary  greatly  in  differ- 
-^A-  ent  parts  of  the  country.  In  the  Basque  country 
everybody  plays  pelota,  when  it  is  possible  to  play 
anything.  On  Sundays,  having  gone  to  mass,  every 
one  promptly  plays  pelota;  on  weekdays,  in  the  in- 
tervals of  business,  —  long  intervals,  —  they  play 
pelota.  Children  dance  on  the  outskirts  of  the  game, 
commenting  with  spirit  upon  its  points;  old  people 
watch  it,  shaking  their  heads  at  the  miserable  way  in 
which  the  national  game  is  played  in  these  degenerate 
days,  and  telling  of  wonderful  games  which  they 
played  or  witnessed  in  their  youth. 

The  pounton  backs  the  paseo  of  every  Basque  vil- 
lage, and  the  court  is  never  deserted.  For  his  na- 
tional game  the  Basque  has  a  furore  of  devotion 
equalled  only  by  his  frenzy  for  his  fueros;  and,  as 
the  artists  of  the  sixteenth  century,  in  Spain,  are  said 
to  have  prayed  and  fasted  before  beginning  a  paint- 
ing, the  Basque  of  to-day  blesses  himself  before  be- 
ginning to  play. 

It  is  a  delightful  game  to  watch,  and  the  spectators 

119 


THE    SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

are  as  eager  as  the  players,  discussing  fine  points  and 
laughing  at  false  plays.  The  courts  are  paved  with 
asphalt,  the  players  wear  alpargatas,  as  they  dart 
lightly  about,  falling  into  a  thousand  graceful  atti- 
tudes, easy  and  charming.  The  game  gives  a  physi- 
cal training,  very  similar  to  that  of  fencing;  every 
muscle  is  tense,  yet  the  coordination  is  so  perfect 
that  there  is  not  the  slightest  appearance  of  strain 
or  effort  in  the  play.  Every  movement  is  sponta- 
neous, almost  automatic.  With  the  arm  fully  ex- 
tended, every  muscle  and  every  ounce  of  weight  in 
the  body  contributes  to  the  force  of  the  blow. 

In  the  middle  portion  of  the  peninsula  there  is  con- 
siderable interest  taken  in  what  may  be  termed  the 
fashionable  sports.  Racing  is  in  vogue  in  Madrid; 
polo,  tennis,  croquet,  the  theatre,  and  the  opera  have 
each  their  devotees,  while  men's  clubs  (women's  clubs 
have  not  yet  entered  Spain),  with  their  attendant 
amusements  of  tresella,  et  cetera,  have  recently  be- 
come very  popular.  They  are  frequented  in  the  day 
time  quite  as  much  as  at  night,  and  by  eleven  o'clock 
in  the  morning  the  men  begin  to  gather  to  chat,  read 
the  papers,  and  play  hombra.  The  Club  de  los  Sel- 
vages in  Madrid  is  copied  closely  after  the  English 
clubs.  There  are  fine  club  rooms  with  facilities  for 
fencing  and  baths,  while  carriage  and  saddle  horses 
are  kept  for  the  members. 

Pigeon-shooting  was  brought  much  into  fashion 

120 


A  Spanish    Dancer 


Peasants  of  the  Huerta 


AMUSEMENTS 

by  the  late  King ;  pheasant-shooting  and  fox-hunting 
are  also  in  vogue,  but  fashionable  sports  are  the  same 
the  world  over,  and  these  therefore  are  scarcely  to  be 
regarded  as  strictly  Spanish.  A  little  Spanish  boy, 
learning  English,  was  told  one  day  to  write  a  com- 
position upon  the  subject  of  amusements,  and  the 
youthful  author  began,  "  The  amusements  of  Spain 
is  to  dance."  If  his  construction  was  faulty,  his  idea 
was  entirely  correct,  for  whatever  else  the  Spanish 
people  do  in  different  sections  of  the  country,  always 
and  everywhere  they  dance. 

The  dances  of  Spain  are  as  distinctive  as  the  people. 
By  the  Spanish  dance  one  does  not  mean  the  gypsy 
dances,*  purely  Oriental  in  character,  performed  only 
in  the  gypsy  quarters  of  Granada  or  Seville,  and  seen 
there  and  discussed  with  interest,  in  more  or  less 
shocked  tones,  by  cursory  tourists.  These  dances 
may  be  the  lineal  descendants  of  those  performances 
which  Martial  thought  so  interesting  in  early  Roman 
days,  but  they  are  not  at  all  typical  Spanish  danees. 

These  are  always  reputable,  always  graceful,  often 
with  words  set  to  the  musical  rhythm  of  the  guitar 
and  castanet  accompaniment.  They  are  the  joy  of 
the  wealthy  as  well  as  of  the  poor.  Passing  down 
a  handsome  street  in  a  Spanish  city  one  will  see  a 
door  swung  open,  and  catch  a  glimpse  of  a  cool  white 
patio  with  its  fountain  and  its  orange  trees.  The 
family  will  be  gathered  here,  the  older  people  chatting 


THE    SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

together,  the  younger  dancing  happily,  the  castanets 
clicking,  the  guitars  strumming.  In  the  poorer  quar- 
ters one  will  find  the  same  scene,  save  perhaps  that 
the  dancing  will  be  more  vehement,  less  restrained, 
the  castanets  and  tambourines  more  prominent. 

At  times  it  seems  as  if 'the  women  were  bitten  by 
tarantulas,  so  ceaselessly  do  they  dance.  According 
to  an  old  legend,  the  tarantula  was  once  a  foolish 
woman  who  loved  dancing  to  such  an  extent  that  she 
danced  even  when  Our  Lord  was  passing  by,  behav- 
ing with  such  shocking  irreverence  that  Our  Lord 
changed  her  into  a  huge  spider  with  a  guitar  stamped 
upon  her  back;  and  from  that  day  to  this  every  one 
who  is  bitten  by  a  tarantula  dances  until  he  falls  down 
with  exhaustion. 

The  outlet  of  Spanish  feelings  is  through  the  toes 
as  one  of  her  writers  says,  and  what  music  is  to  the 
Italian,  dancing  is  to  the  Spaniard.  Even  tiny  little 
toddlers,  holding  their  skirts  in  one  hand  and  clicking 
castanets  with  the  other,  may  be  seen  all  over  Spain 
practising  their  childish  dances.  Each  city  has  its 
own  special  dance ;  the  fair  maids  of  Cadiz  excel  in  the 
cachucha;  in  Honda  the  rondenas  is  the  favorite;  the 
sevillana  is  danced  beside  the  rippling  Guadalquiver 
by  those  beautiful  Sevillian  women  who  are  never  so 
beautiful  as  when  alight  with  the  joy  of  motion  in  the 
dance.  If  the  dances  of  the  South  are  vivid,  languish- 
ing, full  of  abandon,  those  of  the  North  are  equally 


AMUSEMENTS 

characteristic.  La  Muniera  is  one  of  the  most  inter- 
esting of  the  Northern  dances,  and  it  may  be  perfectly 
described  only  by  a  Spaniard  himself.* 

"  Who  knows  how  to  dance  the  Muniera?  Teresa 
Molende;  it  is  a  pleasure  to  see  her  dance  it.  And 
who  will  be  her  partner?  Ramoncine  Limioso  here 
dances  it  to  perfection.  Teresa  yields  not  without 
once  more  affirming  her  incompetence.  After  fasten- 
ing her  skirt  up  with  pins  so  that  it  would  not 
impede  her  movements,  she  stopped  laughing  and 
assumed  a  modest  and  ingenuous  air,  veiling  her 
large,  lustrous  eyes  under  her  thick  lashes,  dropping 
her  head  on  her  breast,  letting  her  arms  fall  to  her 
sides,  swaying  them  slightly  and  rubbing  the  balls 
of  her  thumbs  and  forefingers  together.  Thus  mov- 
ing with  very  short  steps,  her  feet  very  close  together, 
keeping  time  to  the  music,  she  made  the  tour  of  the 
room  with  perfect  decorum,  her  eyes  fixed  on  the 
floor,  stopping  finally  at  the  head  of  the  room. 
While  this  was  taking  place  Senorito  de  Limioso  took 
off  his  short  jacket,  remaining  in  his  shirt  sleeves, 
and  put  on  his  hat,  crying,  "  Victorina,  the  casta- 
nets! "  The  child  ran  and  brought  two  pairs  of  cas- 
tanets, the  senorito  secured  the  cord  between  his 
fingers,  and  after  a  haughty  flourish  began  his  role. 
He  took  his  place  beside  Teresa  and  danced  a  quick 
measure,  courteously  but  urgently  wooing  her  to 

*  The  Swan  of  Villemorta. 
123 


THE    SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

listen  to  his  suit.  At  times  he  touched  the  floor  with 
the  sole  of  his  foot,  at  other  with  the  heel  or  toe  only, 
almost  dislocating  his  ankles  with  the  rapidity  of  his 
movements,  while  he  played  the  castanets  incessantly. 
The  castanets  in  Teresa's  hands  responded  with  a 
faint  tinkle.  Pushing  his  hat  on  his  head,  the  gallant 
looked  boldly  at  his  partner,  approaching  his  face  to 
hers.  He  pursued  her,  urging  his  suit  in  a  thousand 
different  ways,  Teresa  never  altering  her  humble, 
submissive  air,  nor  he  his  conquering  air,  his  gym- 
nastics, nor  his  resolute  movements  of  attack.  It  was 
primitive  love,  the  wooing  of  the  heroic  ages  repre- 
sented in  this  expressive  Cantabrian  dance,  warlike 
and  rude.  The  woman,  dominated  by  the  strength 
of  the  man  and,  better  than  enamored,  afraid.  There 
was  an  instant,  however,  when  the  gallant  peeped 
through  the  barbarous  conqueror,  and  in  the  midst  of 
a  complicated  and  rapid  measure  he  bent  his  knee 
before  the  beauty,  describing  the  figure  known  as 
punto  del  sacramento.  It  was  only  for  a  moment, 
however;  then  springing  to  his  feet  he  gave  his  part- 
ner a  tender  push,  and  they  stood  back  to  back, 
amorously  rubbing  shoulder  against  shoulder.  In 
two  minutes  they  suddenly  drew  apart,  and  with  a 
few  complicated  movements  of  the  ankles  and  a  few 
rapid  turns,  during  which  Teresa's  skirts  whirled 
around  her,  the  rivierana  came  to  an  end  amid  a  burst 
of  applause  from  the  spectators." 


AMUSEMENTS 

In  the  Basque  country  the  zortzica  is  the  favorite 
dance,  and  this  is  performed  usually  by  girls,  four 
couples  forming  a  set,  and  dancing  with  a  charming, 
swaying  motion,  a  combination  of  waltz  time  and  a 
Scottish  reel.  Although  accompanied  by  the  dul- 
sinyas  and  tambrils,  there  is  something  Oriental  in 
the  dance  which  far  removes  it  from  the  primitive 
Gothic  force  of  la  Muniera. 

There  is  something  very  fascinating  about  the 
rhythmic  pat-pat  of  the  alpargata-shod  feet,  always 
in  perfect  time  to  the  music,  as  the  graceful  figures 
glide  in  and  out  of  the  mazes  of  the  dance. 

What  dances  are  to  the  Spanish  women,  the  very 
poetry  of  life,  the  bull-fight  is  to  the  men.  "Pan  y 
toros,"  -bread  and  bulls,  —  give  a  Spaniard  these, 
and  he  can  dispense  with  almost  anything  else. 

So  much  has  been  written  upon  the  subject  of  the 
corrida  in  Spain  that  there  is  little  to  be  said,  unless 
it  might  be  possible,  perhaps,  to  get  at  the  point  of 
view  of  the  Spaniard  himself.  That  might  be  inter- 
esting, authors,  as  a  rule,  writing  from  their  own 
standpoint  or  their  conception  of  that  of  the  bull! 

6  You  will  not  see  the  corrida,  senora?  "  It  was  a 
young  Spaniard  of  Andalucia  who  spoke,  not  a  man 
of  the  people,  nor  yet  of  the  court,  but  one  of  good 
family,  old  traditions,  and  the  best  of  modern  educa- 
tion. c  It  is  too  bad  that  you  will  not  go.  How  else 
can  you  return  to  your  country  and  write  interesting 

125 


THE    SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

books  upon  the  brutality  of  this  cruel  Spanish  sport? 
Surely  you  would  not  come  to  Spain  and  fail  to  do 
that!  It  is  what  all  travellers  find  it  necessary  to  do. 
You  should  see  the  corrida,  see  it  with  the  benevolent 
Anglo-Saxon  eye  and  the  tender  Anglo-Saxon  heart. 
It  is  of  such  a  strange  tenderness,  that  Anglo-Saxon 
heart,  senora.  It  beats  with  such  a  mighty  pity  for 
the  fighting  bulls  and  not  at  all  for  the  poor  little 
foxes,  chased  and  hounded  till,  cornered,  they  are 
torn  to  bits,  one  little  fox  for  oh,  so  many  dogs!  It 
wells  up  with  pity  for  the  old,  worn-out  horses  in  the 
bull  ring,  dying  quickly  on  the  toro's  horns ;  and  for 
the  sleek  and  beautiful  hunters  lying  with  broken  legs 
on  the  hunting  field  it  says,  '  By  Jove!  it 's  a  damn 
shame  to  lose  a  fine  beast  like  that !  That  horse  cost 
fifty  pounds ! '  If  it  were  not  for  coursing  the  breed 
of  hunters  would  not  be  kept  up  —  yes  —  true.  If 
there  were  no  corrida  there  would  be  naught  but 
cab e sir os  *  bred  in  Spain !  So  much  sympathy  for 
the  horse  of  the  picador,  senora,  yet  is  his  a  worse 
fate  than  to  be  sold  to  a  ragman  and,  kept  in  the 
shafts,  starved  and  beaten  until  he  dies,  or  is  sent  in 
the  stifling,  ill-smelling  hold  of  a  ship  to  be  made  into 
beef  at  Amsterdam? 

"  These  gentle  Anglo-Saxon  hearts,  too,  senora, 
they  speak  so  much  of  the  '  brutalizing  effect  of  the 
fights.'  Has  the  senora  ever  seen  a  prize  fight  in  her 

*  Tame  bulls. 
126 


The  Supreme   Moment 

Placing  the   Banderillas 

Springs  Lightly  over  the   Horns  of  Kl  Toro 


The  Picador 


AMUSEMENTS 

own  country?  No?  They  are  not  indeed  for  the 
ladies.  It  made  me  even  a  little  ill  to  hear  that  thud- 
thud  on  flesh  and  blood  with  which  one  of  your  great 
prize  fighters,  the  champion,  they  called  him,  beat 
down  another,  that  other  gradually  growing  weaker 
and  weaker  until  he  fell.  Ugh!  To  see  men  beat 
each  other  with  fists,  that  is  worse  than  cruel,  it  is 
ungentlemanly,  senora. 

'  The  games  of  football  of  which  your  people 
speak  with  such  viv as,  are  they  not  perhaps  a  little 
brutalizing?  You  will  forgive  me  that  I  speak  of 
your  people,  senora.  I  would  never  offend  you. 

'  To  me  it  seems  like  this.  The  things  of  men,  are 
they  not  always  cruel?  Is  not  the  whole  life  of  a  man 
spent  in  getting  the  better  of  something?  In  Amer- 
ica the  business  men  of  the  wheat  or  corn,  do  they  not 
crush  those  who  are  less  strong  or  less  clever  than 
they,  when  they  fight  in  some  great  '  deal '  ?  The 
games  at  your  colleges,  some  one  is  beaten,  injured, 
killed.  The  races  —  a  '  two-year-old  '  is  wind-broken 
for  life,  he  can  never  race  again ;  shooting,  fishing  —  it 
is  all  the  same ;  the  play  of  skill,  courage,  or  dexterity 
against  another.  It  is  cruel,  perhaps,  but  it  is  life. 
The  greater  the  power  of  the  opponent,  the  greater 
the  credit  to  the  winner.  The  odds  are  small  in  fox 
hunting.  If  a  man's  neck  is  broken,  is  it  not  because 
he  is  a  poor  rider  or  has  managed  his  horse  ill?  In 
fishing  what  chance  has  the  fish?  But  in  the  corrida 


THE    SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

the  odds  are  even,  or  if  not,  they  are  against  the  man. 
The  bulls  enjoy  the  fight  as  much  as  the  race  horse 
enjoys  the  race,  senora.  He  is  not  a  tame  beast, 
he  is  a  wild  creature,  fierce  and  untamable.  Chain 
him  to  a  plough  and  try  to  work  him  like  an  ox,  that 
would  be  cruel;  but  give  him  a  quarter  of  an  hour's 
fierce  fight  and  a  quick  death,  and  his  life  has  ended 
happily. 

"  But  why  let  him  gore  the  poor  horses?  you  ask. 
Truly,  senora,  the  Anglo-Saxons  are  the  strangest 
people!  "  There  was  a  curious  note  in  Don  Aquel's 
voice,  half  querulous,  half  contemptuous.  '  Why 
must  they  see  only  the  disagreeable  things  in  life? 
Is  there  nothing  in  the  ring  to  see  but  mangled  horses  ? 
I  myself  look  only  at  the  pleasant  things  in  life  when- 
ever possible.  The  corrida  from  the  very  first, 
senora,  is  a  drama.  We  Latins  like  dramatic  inci- 
dents clothed  as  ceremoniously  as  possible.  The  fight 
begins  with  a  procession,  gorgeous  as  were  the  re- 
views before  the  tournaments  of  old.  The  bull 
enters,  the  picadores  begin.  Each  one  has  an  especial 
part  in  the  drama.  One  picador  draws  the  bull's 
attack,  another  diverts  his  attention  if  that  attack 
seems  likely  to  prove  fatal.  The  picadores  are  a  relic 
of  the  days  when  caballeros  fought  the  bulls  with  the 
lance.  Then  there  were  wonderful  displays  of  skill 
and  courage  and  horsemanship.  Then  the  picadores 
used  the  old  Iberian  spear  instead  of  the  harmless 

128 


AMUSEMENTS 

pica  of  to-day.  That  man  must  be  very  skilful  and 
have  an  arm  of  iron  nowadays,  if  he  is  to  escape  the 
horns  of  the  toro.  I  myself  have  seen  picadores 
tossed  over  the  barrier  into  the  audience.  The  ban- 
derillas  are  not  used,  except  to  enrage  Senor  Toro  or 
to  wound  or  weaken  him;  this  last  not  at  all.  They 
are  to  show  the  skill  of  the  banderilleros.  There  is 
the  Anglo-Saxon  heart  again,  only  pity  for  the  bull 
and  no  appreciation  of  the  courage  and  dexterity  of 
the  brave  banderillero! 

'  The  darts  provoke  the  toro,  that  is  true,  like  the 
nip  of  the  musquiteros.  They  do  not  really  hurt 
him ;  if  they  do,  I  think  he  does  not  know  it,  he  is  too 
excited.  When  one  is  fighting,  one  does  not  feel  any- 
thing. At  Santiago,  senora,  I  was  wounded  in  the 
forehead  by  a  fragment  of  a  shell  which  exploded  on 
the  Oquendo's  deck,  but  I  never  knew  it  until  one  of 
your  countrymen  most  politely  said  to  me,  '  A  thou- 
sand pardons,  senor,  but  may  I  take  you  to  the 
surgeon? '  Then  I  remembered  that  I  had  brushed 
something  from  my  forehead,  which  got  into  my  eyes 
so  that  I  could  not  see.  It  was  blood,  senora.  The 
toro  shakes  his  head  at  the  banderillas,  that  is  all. 

"  The  matador  is  the  last  actor  in  the  drama.  His  is 
the  difficult  feat.  He  must  kill  or  be  killed.  The 
beast  is  ten  times  his  equal  in  strength ;  he  must  be  the 
beast's  superior  in  skill.  That  is,  I  think,  fine  courage, 
and  that  one  likes  to  see.  Man  to  man,  in  fair  fight, 

129 


THE    SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

yes,  that  is  good,  when  they  fight  like  gentlemen;  but 
man  with  beast,  and  only  a  slender  sword,  that  is 
grand!  "  Don  Aquel's  eyes  were  flashing,  his  cheeks 
flushed,  his  whole  face  alight  as  he  sprang  to  his  feet, 
gesturing  rapidly.  "  I  see  it  all,  senora,  —  the  splen- 
did assembly,  color,  light,  flashing  eyes  behind  mov- 
ing fans ;  the  golden  sand,  half  in  the  sun,  half  black 
shadow  like  a  dark  penumbra.  The  bull,  wild,  rag- 
ing, splendid  in  brute  strength,  and  —  one  man,  calm, 
cool,  resolute,  watchful,  wary.  The  beast  makes 
fearful  charges  and  lunges  with  his  cruel  horns.  The 
matador,  now  swaying  his  body  slightly,  eludes  the 
charge,  now  placing  his  foot  between  the  horns 
springs  lightly  over,  clear  over  the  toro.  Now  he 
stands,  he  watches,  then  —  ah!  the  bull  is  almost  on 
him,  that  wild  head  lowered,  a  quick  flash  of  steel,  it 
is  over;  el  toro  is  dead!  Viva!" 

Such  a  picture  had  the  young  don  made  with  his 
words  and  gestures  that  one  could  see  the  whole  scene 
and  understand,  perhaps,  how  it  would  appeal  to  the 
dramatic  Latin  nature. 


130 


CHAPTER   VII 

SOCIETY 

OOCIETY  in  Spain,  except  in  the  court  circles,  is 
O  always  strictly  informal.  Court  society  always 
has  been  and  always  will  be  formal  in  the  extreme, 
though  the  vigorous  young  King  and  his  charming 
wife  show  signs  of  breaking  away  somewhat  from  tra- 
ditions. Their  friendliness  is  appreciated,  though 
the  Spaniards  hardly  know  how  to  meet  it  in  view 
of  the  ceremony  which  in  the  past  has  hedged  the 
throne. 

During  the  Regency  there  was  almost  no  gaiety 
at  the  court.  The  Queen-Regent  was  widowed, 
anxious  about  the  welfare  of  the  country,  absorbed 
in  the  education  of  her  son,  and  she  at  heart  never 
cared  for  gaiety,  though  she  lent  herself  to  it  during 
her  husband's  lifetime  because  he  enjoyed  the  social 
side  of  things.  A  formal  ball  once  or  twice  a  year  she 
forced  herself  to  give,  and  such  formal  dinners  as 
could  not  be  avoided  were  all  she  provided  of  court 
society.  The  formal  receptions,  called  besamanos,* 

*  To  kiss  the  hand. 

131 


THE    SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

were  largely  attended,  though  merely  as  a  matter  of 
duty,  for  the  Queen-Regent,  though  universally  re- 
spected was  never  universally  loved.  She  was  called 
the  "  Austrian,"  and  that  defined  her  position  in  the 
hearts  of  the  people.  Not  espagnola,  she  could  never 
be  muy  simpatica. 

To-day  royal  functions  are  more  exciting.  All  the 
world  loves  a  lover,  and  the  King  and  his  bonny  Eng- 
lish Queen  made  so  unmistakably  a  love  match, 
and  did  withal  so  well  for  the  country  thereby, 
that  their  subjects  are  quite  inclined  to  smile  upon 
them.  The  King  is  exceedingly  democratic,  friendly 
and  gay  in  manner,  yet  he  understands  excellently 
well  how  to  keep  to  traditions  enough  to  pla- 
cate those  who  are  sticklers  for  the  formalities  of 
life,  especially  those  sanctioned  by  ancient  Spanish 
customs. 

These  customs  are  still  terrifyingly  formal  to  one 
accustomed  to  republican  simplicity.  At  a  court 
function  the  number  of  attendants  alone,  any  one  of 
whom  might  be  a  lord  of  "  Ormus  and  of  Ind,"  from 
the  gorgeousness  of  his  attire,  is  sufficient  to  overawe 
one  accustomed  to  the  dead  black  of  the  male  portion 
of  American  society.  There  are  majordomos,  cabal- 
leros  monteros,  alabarderos,  monteros  de  Espinosa, 
and  countless  others,  and  one  entering  the  palace 
would  run  the  gantlet  of  them  until  positively  be- 
wildered. One's  first  call  upon  royalty  is  likely  to 

132 


The   King  of  Spain  and  the  Prince  of  the  Asturias 


Her  Majesty  the  Queen  of  Spain 


SOCIETY 

be  a  terrifying  experience  in  any  case,  and  after  a 
soiree  at  the  Palaccio  Real,  gold  lace,  embroideries, 
crimson  velvet,  and  jewels  blur  the  memory  in  a  veri- 
table melange. 

Outside  of  the  court,  Madrid  society  has  a  charm 
to  be  found  in  no  other  capital  of  Europe.  Infor- 
mality is  the  rule,  and  hospitality  shows  itself  in  the 
tertulia,  an  institution  purely  Spanish  and  wholly 
delightful. 

The  tertulia  is  merely  a  group  of  friends  who 
are  wont  to  frequent  the  house  of  Dona  Tal  Fu- 
lano.  It  is  really  an  "  at  home,"  but  so  informal  and 
pleasant  and  cheery  that  one  scarcely  regards  it  as  a 
function. 

The  sefiora  receives  upon  a  certain  evening,  and 
her  friends  know  that  she  is  to  be  seen  at  that  time 
and  that  they  will  meet  at  her  house  congenial  spirits. 
Very  seldom  are  special  invitations  given,  except  in 
the  case  of  visitors  from  out  of  the  city  introduced  by 
a  mutual  friend.  These  are  almost  never  invited  to 
dine,  as  in  this  country,  but  are  always  asked  for  the 
seiiora's  tertulia9  and  after  once  attending,  it  is 
understood  that  they  are  privileged  to  come  every 
week.  It  makes  not  the  slightest  particle  of  differ- 
ence to  the  hostess  how  many  or  how  few  attend. 
For  her  there  has  been  no  agony  of  preparation,  no 
horror  lest  "  cook  "  should  leave,  no  miserable  worry 
for  fear  more  will  come  than  have  been  prepared  for. 

133 


THE    SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

The  hostess  is  serene  and  calm  to  a  degree.  She  has 
had  no  occasion  to  wear  herself  to  a  frazzle  about 
her  tertulia.  If  few  come  she  enjoys  an  intimate 
chat  with  them,  if  many  come,  no  importa.  ,  The 
water  supply  of  Madrid  is  plentiful,  the  water  ex- 
ceptionally good.  Refreshments  are  the  least  of 
Spanish  troubles,  for  it  is  quite  likely  that  only  water 
will  be  passed  around,  water  very  cool  and  sweet,  in 
dainty  glasses.  It  is  surprising  how  delicious  that 
water  is!  The  rooms  are  warm,  there  is  really  no 
need  for  anything  else  in  the  way  of  drinkables, 
though  the  average  American  would  never  have 
thought  of  showing  hospitality  in  such  a  manner.  In 
addition  to  the  water  there  may  be  chocolate,  served 
hot  and  frothy  from  being  lightly  beaten  up.  It  is 
about  as  thick  as  gruel  and  eaten,  for  it  is  too  thick 
to  drink,  by  dipping  into  it  the  end  of  a  lady-finger, 
not  lady's  finger,  as  a  horrified  American  understood 
a  wicked  young  don  to  say  was  the  case. 

The  tertulia  may  be  merely  a  conversational  affair, 
or  the  men  present  may  occupy  themselves  with 
tresillo,  a  childish  game,  a  sort  of  lottery.  Each 
player  has  a  square  of  pasteboard  to  fill  with  beans, 
which  one  of  the  players  holds  in  a  bag.  Numbers 
are  drawn  and  according  to  the  number  drawn,  beans 
are  placed  on  the  squares.  The  one  who  covers  his 
square  first  wins  the  game,  and  as  each  bean  may 
stand  for  any  amount  of  money  the  game  has  an 


SOCIETY 

element  of  excitement  which  does  not  at  first  appear. 
Spaniards  love  any  game  .of  chance  and  they  appear 
able  to  have  a  lottery  over  anything  from  theatre 
boxes  to  the  village  cow. 

Some  tertulias  there  are,  —  it  must  be  said  to  the 
credit  of  Spain,  few  in  number,  —  called  "  aduan- 
tillas"  or  little  custom-houses,  because  their  habitues 
inspect  to  the  minutest  detail  the  characters  of  their 
friends.  According  to  the  Spanish  expression,  "  le 
coatan  un  vestido  "  —  they  dress  up  one  whose  name  is 
mentioned;  and  the  unique  feature  of  the  whole  per- 
formance is  that  all  the  guests  arrive  and  depart  at  the 
same  moment,  in  mutual  self-defence  to  avoid  giving 
an  opportunity  for  a  dressing  up  on  the  part  of  those 
arriving  earlier  or  departing  later. 

'  Were  these  human  scavengers  women  only," 
said  a  bright  young  Spaniard,  "one  could  forgive 
them,  since  a  Spaniard  excuses  anything  to  the 
ladies." 

Malilla  —  whist  —  is  also  a  favorite  game  at  the 
tertulias,  though  generally  the  Spaniard  prefers  to 
play  cards  at  his  club.  At  the  larger  tertulias  there 
is  sometimes  music,  more  often  dancing,  and  the 
evening  ends  with  a  cotillion,  which  the  young  people 
greatly  enjoy,  though  there  is  no  flirting  in  corners 
between  dances;  the  dainty  little  Spanish  maidens, 
though  quite  as  adept  in  the  arts  of  coquetry  as  their 
American  sisters,  are  compelled  to  coquette  openly 

135 


THE    SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

or  await  the  seclusion  of  the  grated  window  and  the 
youth  who  "  plucks  the  turkey  "  beneath.* 

In  its  home  aspects,  society  in  Spain  is  delight- 
fully unceremonious.  The  family  dally  over  a  late 
breakfast,  coffee  or  thick  chocolate  and  rolls,  and 
chat  at  the  luncheon  table.  The  master  of  the  house 
lounges  in  the  morning  room  or  smokes  in  the  bal- 
cony, teasing  his  wife,  to  whom  he  is  generally  de- 
voted in  the  ardent  Spanish  fashion.  This  devotion 
shows  itself  as  does  his  devotion  to  the  Virgin,  in  the 
making  of  presents,  dressing  her  up  as  a  doll,  in- 
dulging her  in  every  possible  way,  perhaps  because 
he  indulges  himself  also  and  expects  her  to  pardon 
any  of  his  little  peccadillos  which  may  come  to  her 
notice.  And  indeed,  she  is  rather  unobservant  of  his 
lapses. 

It  is  not  customary  in  other  countries  to  regard 
shopping  as  a  society  function,  but  in  Madrid  it  is 
really  such,  and,  closely  observed,  one  of  the  pret- 
tiest functions  imaginable.  La  senora  enters  her 
carriage  attired  for  conquest.  She  is  never  alone, 
but  gathers  two  or  three  kindred  spirits  to  attend 
her.  How  they  chatter!  Spanish  women  love 
dearly  to  gossip,  not  unkindly  —  though  they  will 

*  The  origin  of  this  Spanish  expression  for  love-making  at  the  grill  is 
rather  amusing.  Many  years  ago  a  man  servant  was  talking  with  his 
sweetheart  one  evening  and  was  called  by  his  mistress  several  times  before  he 
heard.  In  making  his  excuses  he  assured  his  mistress  that  he  was  but 
"  plucking  the  turkey  "  for  the  next  day's  dinner.  As  his  master  had  seen 
him  at  Fulana's  window,  the  saying  soon  became  a  synonyme  for  love-making. 

136 


SOCIETY 

listen,  it  is  true,  to  any  choice  bit  of  scandal  retailed, 
even  the  young  girls  lacking  the  extreme  shyness 
which  French  girls  never  lose  until  Mademoiselle 
blooms  into  Madame. 

'  The  niece  of  Dona  Eulalia  has  returned  from 
Paris.  She  has  the  most  wonderful  gowns!" 

*  Yes,  and  her  hats,  Madre  de  Dios!  but  they 
would  make  a  saint  covet! " 

'  They  say  she  will  need  them  and  more  if  she  is 
to  keep  Don  Jaime  from  —  well,  one  does  not  know 
if  it  is  true;  but  she  was  too  long  in  Paris." 

'  What  did  she  look  for?  It  is  a  new  thing  for 
wives  to  go  away  from  their  homes  without  their  hus- 
bands. We  have  many  new  things  in  Madrid  since 
the  English  wedding." 

'*  Indeed,  yes,  a  new  Prince  of  the  Asturias,  a 
healthy  one,  too,  if  he  is  nursed  by  his  own  mother 
like  a  peasant's  child." 

"  Dona  Paolina  must  be  aping  Her  Majesty's  ex- 
ample. They  say  she  insists  that  she  will  nurse  the 
nino  the  angels  are  keeping  for  her!  " 

"  Dios!  The  angels  would  do  well  to  continue 
keeping  it  if  Paolina  is  to  care  for  it.  I  have  never 
seen  one  more  flighty  than  she!  " 

"  I  heard  the  drollest  thing  to-day!  Dona  Paz 
asked  of  the  Senora  Guiterrez  if  she  meant  to  enter- 
tain in  her  house  the  daughter  of  her  friend,  who 
has  come  to  an  uncle's  to  visit.  The  young  girl's 

137 


THE    SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

mother  was  an  old  friend  of  the  Senora  Guiterrez 
and  she  was  killed  in  Cuba,  some  terrible  event  of 
the  hacienda  being  set  fire  to  by  the  Cubanos  and 
she  destroyed.  An  American  soldier  saved  the  girl, 
and  she  says  that  he  is  quite  a  fine  caballero,  that 
Americanos  are  not  at  all  pigs  —  Well,  Dona  Paz 
says  the  Senora  Guiterrez  regarded  her  tranquilly 
for  a  moment  and  then  said,  '  No,  my  dear.  The 
girl  is  young  and  very  pretty.  I  myself  have  some 
years  and  gray  hairs  to  match  with  them.  It  would 
be  better  not  to  have  her  visit  me.  Of  course  we  all 
trust  our  husbands  perfectly,  but  it  is  quite  as  well 
not  to  put  temptations  in  the  path  of  any  man ! '  Is 
she  not  droll?"  This  was  received  with  delighted 
giggles. 

"It  is  necessary  that  I  have  a  new  fan,  let  us  go 
to  the  shop  in  the  Prado  and  buy.  True,  there  it  is 
very  expensive  —  yes  —  but  one  can  pay  half  with 
the  eyes,  and  the  fans  are  quite  the  prettiest  in 
Madrid." 

"  And,  too,  it  is  such  a  delight  to  buy  there,  for  one 
sees  the  pesetas  drop  from  the  price  with  each  glance 
of  the  eye!" 

About  the  fan  counter  in  the  handsome  shop  flut- 
ters the  dainty  group,  hovering  like  butterflies  above 
the  goods  displayed,  until  the  shopman  scarcely 
knows  what  to  do  or  say.  What  smiles  and  shrugs! 
What  merry  banter!  Above  all,  what  glances!  He 

138 


SOCIETY 

would  like  to  give  fans  to  all  three,  but  what  is  a 
poor  man  to  do?  He  is  but  a  clerk  and  the  master 
has  said,  "  Come  down  on  the  price  you  may,  but 
even  for  the  ladies  of  society  we  cannot  sell  for  less 
than  half."  But  the  Doila  Costanza  is  so  charming! 

'  This  fan,  twelve  pesetas!  Does  your  master 
think  the  world  is  made  of  money?  It  is  worth  per- 
haps five-  The  little  lady  gave  him  a  quick 
glance  to  see  how  this  was  received. 

"  But,  senora,  regard  the  quality!  "  His  tone  was 
full  of  protest. 

"  Is  the  quality,  then,  so  good? "  she  arched  her 
brows. 

"  As  good  as  God's  blessing,  senora,  and  do  but 
see  how  the  color  becomes  your  eyes,"  —  this  as  two 
languishing  black  orbs  "  threw  sparks  "  from  just 
above  the  lace  of  the  ravishing  rose-colored  fan. 

"If  it  is  then  so  becoming  you  should  wish  me  to 
have  it  at  my  own  price." 

"  But,  yes,  senora,  it  would  make  my  happiness 
for  you  to  possess  it  without  price,  but  alas!  it  is  not 
mine!  Perhaps  at  ten  pesetas  I  might  persuade  the 
master  to  sell."  He  regards  her  anxiously. 

"  Surely  you  dream,  senor,  ten  pesetas  for  a  mere 
fan,  which  one  will  break  in  an  evening.  Doubtless 
your  master  has  forgotten  that  there  are  in  Madrid 
other  shops  where  fans  are  sold.  But  you  yourself 
jest.  Seven,  perhaps,  I  might  give,  —  but  ten!" 

139 


THE    SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

She  lifts  her  dainty  skirts  and  prepares  to  leave,  her 
friends  chiming  in  readily  with  the  requirements  of 
the  situation. 

"  It  is  really  a  pity  that  Dona  Costanza  may  not 
possess  herself  of  a  fan  that  is  so  suited  to  her,  be- 
cause of  your  hesitation.  I  think,  senor,  if  your 
master  really  knew  that  you  were  refusing  to  oblige 
her,  he  would  be  not  altogether  pleased,"  says  one, 
and  the  other,  with  a  wicked  little  frown,  adds,  "We 
do  but  waste  time,  Costanza  mia;  I  saw  a  1'an  far 
handsomer  in  the  next  shop.  There  I  often  go  and 
I  am  met  so  courteously!  You  would  purchase  what 
you  wish  there  for  but  a  word  "  -  and  they  all  rise 
to  leave  the  shop. 

"But,   senora,"    -the   salesman   is   in   despair - 
"  take  the  fan  for  nine  pesetas,  and  I  shall  be  happy 
though  I  lose  my  place." 

"  Never  would  I  endanger  so  pleasant  and  polite 
a  senor  of  such  a  loss,"  -the  little  lady  was  all  af- 
fability. "  Eight  I  might  offer,  yes,  perhaps  eight  - 
rather  than  spend  the  day  in  another  shop,  but  nine 
pesetas!  Why,  senor,  could  you  who  look  so  honest 
and  open  as  the  day  rob  me? "  Oh,  the  disappoint- 
ment in  the  soft  cadences! 

"  At  eight  take  it!  "  Hastily  he  wraps  it  up  lest 
she  change  her  mind.  "  I  shall  tell  the  master  that 
his  fan  is  well  sold,  since  in  use  it  so  becomes  the 
senora  that  all  her  friends  will  ask  whence  it  came." 

140 


SOCIETY 

"Ah,  senor,  you  are  too  good!  All  my  friends 
I  shall  send  to  you  to  purchase  fans!  "  and  the  three 
butterflies  fluttered  out  with  an  affable  "  Adios  "  to 
the  salesman,  who  was  jubilant.  He  had  sold  for 
eight  pesetas  a  fan  which  had  cost  three;  and  for 
which  he  would  have  taken  six,  and  he  had  sold  it  to 
a  lady  of  fashion  in  such  a  manner  as  to  please  her 
fastidious  tastes. 

The  senora  herself  was  equally  delighted  with  her 
bargain. 

"Such  a  bargain!"  she  exclaims  to  her  friends. 
"I  would  gladly  have  paid  ten.  The  man  was 
crazy!" 

"  But  your  smile  has  set  men  crazy  before,"  her 
companion  said,  and  Dona  Costanza  blushed  and 
tapped  her  friend's  cheek  lightly  with  the  rose  col- 
ored fan.  She  was  so  gay  over  her  victory  that  she 
was  quite  the  most  admired  of  all  the  gay  ladies 
who  drove  in  the  Prado  that  day.  Every  one  who  is 
any  one  drives  in  the  Prado,  and  you  simply  must 
have  a  carriage  if  you  are  to  shine  in  Madrid  society. 
That  is  a  requisite,  and  the  liveries  of  the  lackeys  are 
scarcely  less  handsome  than  the  gowns  of  their  mis- 
tresses, when  society  is  on  parade.  This  daily  drive 
might  not  be  considered  exactly  exhilarating  by  an 
American,  being  merely  a  sedate  carriage  parade  up 
and  down  the  fashionable  avenues,  the  carriages  be- 
ing so  close  together  that  a  hungry  horse  can  nibble 

141 


THE    SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

the  flowers  in  the  hats  of  the  occupants  of  the  pre- 
ceding carriage. 

The  pleasantest  thing  about  good  society  in 
Madrid  is  that  it  is  accessible.  The  women  of  rank 
and  fashion  seem  uncommonly  good-hearted,  and 
welcome  to  their  circles  strangers,  properly  intro- 
duced by  some  mutual  friend,  and  even  poor  rela- 
tions from  the  country  are  called  "cousin"  and 
treated  with  the  warmest  hospitality.  Indeed  one 
seldom  sees  goodness  of  heart  combined  with  refine- 
ment and  elegance,  grace  and  spontaneity,  to  such 
an  extent  as  in  the  society  women  of  Madrid. 

Provincial  society  is  even  less  conventional  than 
that  of  the  capital,  indeed  in  many  of  the  smaller 
cities  the  townspeople  resent  any  attempt  at  intro- 
ducing urban  innovations  which  depart  in  the  least 
degree  from  their  simple  traditions.  Especially  is 
this  so  in  the  case  of  the  servants  who  serve  you  with 
a  friendliness  as  far  removed  from  familiarity  as  it  is 
from  servility.  Maids  accompany  their  mistresses 
to  market,  attired  in  the  simplest  of  print  frocks  and 
aprons,  and  would  never  dream  of  going  forth  dressed 
as  our  maids,  in  gowns  quite  equal  to  those  of  their 
mistresses. 

Not  long  ago  an  Andalucian  married  a  Madrilena, 
and  upon  arriving  in  her  new  home,  a  small  place 
near  Seville,  she  horrified  her  neighbors  by  putting 
her  lackeys  into  new,  expensive,  and  exceedingly 


Maria  Christina,  Dowager  Queen  of  Spain 


The  Throne  Room,  Madrid 


SOCIETY 

fashionable  liveries.  All  the  town  was  alive  with  dis- 
approval. Was  not  the  old  livery  good  enough? 
Whenever  she  went  abroad  in  her  neat  carriage,  with 
her  dapper  footman  and  coachman,  people  stared. 
She  insisted,  too,  that  the  lackeys  assume  the  proper 
English  manner,  that  of  wooden  obliviousness  to 
whatever  went  on,  instead  of  allowing  the  footman 
to  converse  affably  as  he  held  the  open  door  for  her, 
or  the  coachman  to  turn  on  the  box  to  ask  her  a  ques- 
tion, as  the  old  fashion  had  been. 

Miguel,  the  coachman,  had  been  in  the  family  for 
years,  and  he  did  not  at  all  relish  such  innovations, 
but  Juan,  the  footman,  was  a  peasant  lad  and  quite 
in  love  with  the  distinction  of  serving  the  senor  and 
the  senor's  pretty  wife.  He  was  plump  as  a  young 
partridge,  and  his  shapely  calves  needed  nothing  ar- 
tificial to  make  them  look  well  in  the  smart  boots 
and  knee  breeches  upon  which  the  senora  insisted. 
Miguel,  on  the  contrary  was  thin  as  the  knight  of  La 
Mancha.  He  objected  violently  to  strictures  upon 
his  personal  appearance.  Upon  representations  from 
the  master,  however,  that  even  he  himself  had  to 
serve  her  ladyship's  whims  and  that  every  one  else  in 
the  house  had  to  do  likewise,  Miguel  yielded,  grum- 
bling, but  somewhat  pacified  by  the  addition  of  a 
real  to  his  wages.  Thereafter  he  appeared  upon  the 
box  resplendent  to  a  degree,  his  padded  extremities 
a  constant  eyesore  to  himself,  a  source  of  infinite 

143 


THE     SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

amusement  to  Juan,  who  made  fun  of  them  when- 
ever he  dared,  as  did  also  the  gamins  of  the  street. 

"  Behold  him!  "  they  would  cry.  "  Is  it  not  won- 
derful! Arms  of  such  length  and  legs  of  such  a  fat- 
ness! Truly  he  looks  like  a  stuffed  turkey  upon  the 
Noche  Buena!  His  fellow  is  as  plump  as  a  fat 
goose.  We  will  see  if  they  are  real!  "  Then  the 
graceless  scamps  would  make  blow-pipes  of  pieces 
of  reed  with  the  pith  pushed  out,  and  they  would  take 
tacks  and  twist  bits  of  cotton  wool  about  them  and 
with  the  deadly  aim  of  long  practice,  blow  these 
wicked  little  darts  into  the  calves  of  the  lackeys. 

Neither  coachman  nor  footman  saw  the  imps  play 
Robin  Hood,  for  neither  dared  to  turn  his  head. 
Juan  could  feel,  however,  and  he  winced  in  anguish 
as  each  dart  pricked  his  flesh  and  he  heard  the  boys' 
shouts  of  glee.  Miguel  was  stolid  as  an  ox.  Juan 
wondered  if  he  was  suffering  too,  but  no,  there  could 
not  be  human  man  who  could  sit  so  tranquilly  under 
such  fiery  banderillas!  He  carefully  turned  his  eyes 
downward.  Behold  the  legs  of  Miguel  all  peppered 
with  little  white  tufts!  It  was  so  absurd  that  Juan 
shook  with  suppressed  merriment.  Miguel  sat  in 
serene  unconsciousness.  Then  it  dawned  upon 
Juan.  The  padding  of  which  he  had  made  so  much 
fun  had  saved  the  coachman  from  the  anguish  which 
he  himself  was  suffering!  But  he  would  rather  suf- 
fer anything  than  look  such  a  guy  as  did  Miguel,  he 

144 


SOCIETY 

thought.  What  would  my  lady  say?  Juan  chuckled, 
then  grew  suddenly  sober  as  Miguel  leered  suspic- 
iously at  him  out  of  the  corner  of  his  eye.  The  boys 
meanwhile  were  chanting  lustily, 

"The  tall  one  is  stuffed, 
The  short  one  is  not; 
What  can  he  be  stuffed  with, 
What,  oh  what  ? 

His  cheeks  are  of  famine, 

His  arms  are  twin  sticks, 

But  his  legs !  when  he  sees  them, 

Watch  well  for  his  kicks !" 

Miguel  remained  unconscious,  until,  the  drive  upon 
the  Paseo  over,  the  senora  alighted  at  her  casa 
and  turned  to  view  her  smart  equipage.  As  she 
gave  Juan  some  orders,  her  eyes  fell  upon  Miguel's 
calves. 

"Mother  of  God!"  she  shrieked.  Spanish  wo- 
men's voices  are  wont  to  be  shrill  in  anger.  '  What 
means  this?  Maria  Santissima!  Such  legs!  Have 
you  driven  me  through  the  streets  tufted  like  a 
wooly  lamb?  Miguel,  are  you  crazy?  Dreaming? 
Thus  to  make  me  the  laughing  stock  of  the  town! " 
Miguel  stared  at  her  in  wonder,  then  his  eyes  slowly 
followed  her  accusing  finger,  pointing  in  scorn  at  his 
extremities.  He  looked  at  himself  in  astonishment 
for  a  moment  stupefied,  and  Juan  stepped  forward 
and  politely  withdrew  one  of  the  darts,  presenting  it 
to  her  ladyship. 

145 


THE    SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

"  A  thousand  pardons,  senora,"  he  said.  "  I  think 
Miguel  was  not  aware  of  these  presents  received  from 
the  boys  of  the  street." 

Her  ladyship  gasped,  then  the  humor  of  the  sit- 
uation struck  her.  '  You,  why  have  you  received 
none,"  she  demanded.  "  I  received  them,  your  lady- 
ship, but  —  but  I  was  conscious  of  mine!"  his  tone 
was  embarrassed  but  proud.  Her  ladyship  looked 
him  over  for  a  moment,  then  her  gay  peal  of  laughter 
rang  out. 

"  Truly,  Juan,  Miguel  has  come  off  the  better  of 
the  two !  "  She  laughed  as  she  turned  away.  Miguel 
regarded  her  back  a  trifle  savagely  as  she  entered  the 
house,  then  said  to  his  fellow  servant,  "  Her  lady- 
ship is  right,  I  am  best  treated.  I  have  been  but 
laughed  at,  you  have  been  made  a  pin  cushion  like 
Saint  Sebastian  and  laughed  at  besides!  "  But  Juan 
answered  only,  (f  Vaya  Fd.  con  diablo! " 

In  many  of  the  smaller  towns  walking  in  the  Prado 
is  the  favorite  pastime  of  society.  Often  the  prom- 
enade on  the  Alameda  is  the  starting  point  of  many 
a  love  affair.  The  band  plays  —  La  Senora  walks 
out  with  mamma,  quite  oblivious  to  the  remarks  made 
as  to  her  charms  by  the  various  youths  who  cast  ad- 
miring glances  at  her;  she  comes  —  she  is  seen  — 
she  conquers. 

In  Lancia  upon  the  promenade  called  Bombe, 
society  is  wont  to  assemble  to  hear  the  band,  espe- 

146 


SOCIETY 

cially  upon  feast  days.  At  times  the  musicians  play 
on  dejectedly  to  empty  air,  for  the  custom  of  the 
place  demands  that  a  well-bred  girl  must  never  be 
first  to  appear,  and  behind  half -drawn  jalousies  sit 
the  beauties  of  the  place,  each  dressed,  a  rose  in  her 
hair,  waiting  till  some  one  else  shall  have  made  her 
appearance.  Alas !  Sometimes  they  wait  in  vain, 
for  no  one  can  be  first,  and  so  at  last  they  go  to  bed 
and  salt  their  pillows  with  their  tears  of  disap- 
pointment. 

Feast  days  are  observed  scrupulously,  and  at  al- 
most any  time  marching  through  the  streets,  proud 
as  Juan  Soldado,*  may  be  seen  a  Gallego  carrying  in 
both  hands  a  set  piece  for  the  feast  of  La  Senora. 

Poor  Gallego!  The  baker  has  charged  him  to 
carry  this  enormous  cake  most  carefully.  "This  cake 
is  for  the  feast  of  the  Senora  at  the  Casa  Grande. 
She  has  to-day  a  saint  in  the  house.  This  must  ar- 
rive there  spotless  and  perfect;  remember  this  if 
you  wish  to  retain  your  place! " 

The  Gallego  therefore  carries  carefully  in  his  two 
hands  the  great  three-story  cake,  with  its  white 
frosting  in  wonderful  patterns,  upon  the  top  a  gay 
little  white  Cupid  in  the  skirts  of  a  ballet  dancer.  It 
is  rather  heavy  to  carry  with  the  arms  extended 
straight  out  before  him.  The  street  urchins  realize 
to  the  full  the  charms  of  the  situation.  Could  any- 

*  The  Spanish  name  for  a  private  soldier. 

147 


THE    SPANIARD   AT    HOME 

thing  be  more  opportune  than  his  appearance  just  at 
this  moment  when  they  had  nothing  at  all  to  do?  Gal- 
lego-baiting  is  always  fine  sport,  and  they  surround 
the  poor  fellow  like  dancing  devils. 

"This  raisin  looks  good!"  cries  one,  snapping 
with  thumb  and  forefinger  at  a  particularly  plump 
fruit  on  the  top.  The  Gallego  curses  frightfully  and 
aims  a  vicious  kick  at  his  tormentor.  It  is  all  that 
he  can  do  for  he  dare  not  set  down  the  precious  cake, 
and  he  must  hold  it  with  both  hands. 

"  It  needs  a  cap  to  wear,  it  is  not  proper  for  a  cake 
to  walk  the  streets  with  its  head  uncovered!  I  will 
lend  it  mine,"  shouts  another  youngster,  trying  to 
toss  his  dirty  little  cap  on  top  of  the  cake. 

"  It  is  too  tall,  let  us  eat  the  top  layer,"  cries  a 
third,  while  a  fourth  from  behind  tickles  the  Gallego's 
ear  with  a  straw,  at  which  he  kicks  frantically  nearly 
overbalancing  in  his  efforts  to  keep  the  cake  in  an  up- 
right position. 

'  This  cake  is  too  white,  it  needs  some  color,"  cries 
another  cherub,  (though  so  naughty,  these  Spanish 
laddies  of  the  streets  look  exactly  like  Murillo's  en- 
chanting ninos),  and  at  the  side  which  the  Gallego 
cannot  see  he  pretends  to  throw  little  mud  balls. 
These  various  forms  of  torture  continue  until  the 
poor  Gallego  arrives  at  his  destination,  breathless 
and  purple  with  rage.  His  cake  is  intact,  for  his  tor- 
mentors were  at  heart  good  little  chaps  and  would 

148 


SOCIETY 

not  have  spoiled  it  for  the  world,  and  the  Gallego 
feels  peculiarly  infuriated  because  he  had  expended 
to  no  purpose  his  choicest  vocabulary  of  Gallegan 
profanity. 

When  the  provinces  entertain  guests  from  the 
court,  provincial  society  is  at  its  best.  Secure  in  their 
traditions,  the  provincials  make  even  Royalty  wel- 
come with  a  beautiful  simplicity  which  no  doubt  Roy- 
alty enjoys  very  much.  *  The  King  is  my  cousin/ 
the  old  adage  says,  and  since  this  is  so,  then  what  is 
good  enough  for  me  is  good  enough  for  my  cousin," 
is  the  very  simple  Spanish  way  of  looking  at  the  sit- 
uation. One  thing  only  must  be  observed  strictly  ac- 
cording to  Spanish  etiquette,  and  that  is,  every  one  is 
compelled  to  do  exactly  what  the  King  does;  and 
amusing  situations  sometimes  appear  as  the  result  of 
this,  as  in  the  case  of  a  banquet  given  in  an  Anda- 
lucian  town. 

The  late  king,  Alphonso  XII,  was  a  great  jester. 
He  dearly  loved  to  tease,  and  his  jests  were  such 
merry  ones  that  even  those  who  felt  the  point  for- 
gave and  laughed.  A  banquet  was  given  in  honor  of 
the  King  and  to  it  were  invited  the  mayors  of  all  the 
neighboring  villages.  All  accepted  and  came,  re- 
splendent in  their  best  uniforms. 

There  were  on  the  table,  olives  stoned  and  stuffed 
with  pimentoes,  common  enough  now  but  the  first 
ever  seen  by  one  of  the  local  officers.  The  King 

149 


THE    SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

tasted  them,  putting  one  into  his  mouth  and  swal- 
lowing it  with  evident  enjoyment.  The  mayor's 
eyes  opened  wide  with  horror.  Etiquette  demanded 
that  he  must  do  the  same,  but  he  hesitated.  His  Maj- 
esty had  swallowed  a  stone.  It  did  not  seem  to  in- 
commode him;  perhaps  the  stomachs  of  kings  were 
different  from  those  of  other  mortals.  He  himself 
would  die  were  he  to  do  such  a  thing.  Now  His 
Majesty  was  quick-witted  as  he  was  merry.  He  saw 
the  man's  hesitation  and  in  an  instant  had  grasped 
the  situation. 

"  These  olives,  they  are  most  delicious,"  he  said. 
"  From  your  province,  I  believe,  senor.  I  congrat- 
ulate you  on  living  in  a  place  where  olives  are  so  fine," 
and  he  popped  another  into  his  mouth.  The  mayor 
was  forced  to  follow  suit.  Horrible!  He  felt  the 
stone  going  down  his  throat. 

"  Another  of  these  excellent  olives ! "  How  His 
Majesty's  eyes  twinkled,  as  he  praised  them  again. 
The  corregidor  saw  himself  a  dead  man!  He  sat  at 
a  feast  with  corpses  about  the  board! 

"  I  have  four  olive  stones  in  my  stomach,  and  I  am 
a  dead  man!  "  he  moaned  to  himself.  c  Well,  I  may, 
then,  as  well  enjoy  my  last  meal  on  earth!"  and  he 
fell  to  with  a  will  to  eat  and  drink.  The  wines  of  the 
province  were  excellent.  Of  them  he  drank  more 
freely  than  usual,  hoping  to  drown  the  terrifying 
thoughts  which  assailed  him.  Then  he  went  home  to 

150 


SOCIETY 

be  received  both  skeptically  and  unsympathetically 
by  the  wife  of  his  bosom. 

"  Send  for  the  priest  I  will  not,"  she  said.  "  You 
have  taken  too  much  aguardiente;  you  have  eaten  too 
largely  of  too  fine  a  dinner.  I  do  not  at  all  believe 
that  Death  sits  upon  your  bedpost  this  night,"  and 
she  sent  him  unceremoniously  to  bed. 

But  imagination  plays  a  large  part  in  disease  and 
before  morning  the  poor  man  was  really  in  a  high 
fever.  His  wife  sent  posthaste  for  the  senor  doctor, 
which  worthy  pooh-poohed  at  the  death  idea,  and 
gave  his  patient  a  dose  which  soon  restored  him  to 
health. 

But  thereafter  he  would  never  taste  an  olive,  the 
memory  of  his  night  of  horrors  being  ever  present 
with  him,  and  to  this  day  he  wonders  at  His  Maj- 
esty's digestion.  He  is  wont  to  relate  the  tale  of  the 
dinner,  in  the  evenings  when  his  cronies  gather  round 
his  fireside. 

"His  Majesty  Alphonso  XIII  is  a  fine  king  — 
yes  —  but  his  father!  There  was  a  man!  I  assure 
you  I  have  never  seen  his  like.  A  man  with  a  smile 
in  his  eye,  and  a  jest  on  his  lips,  even  with  death  in 
his  heart,"  and,  always,  he  concluded,  "-And  the 
stomach  of  an  ostrich!" 


151 


CHAPTER   VIII 

CHURCH  AND  CHARITY 

RELIGION  in  Spain  is  what  it  has  been  for  hun- 
dreds of  years,  Catholic.  Whether  one  re- 
gards this  from  the  standpoint  of  Protestantism  as  a 
misfortune,  or  from  the  Catholic's  standpoint  as  the 
greatest  of  blessings,  the  fact  remains  that  no  form 
of  religion  except  the  Roman  Catholic  has  ever  taken 
hold  on  the  Spanish  people.  The  form  suits  the  tem- 
perament of  the  Latin  race;  the  authority  of  the 
Church  rules  them,  that  it  was  the  church  of  their 
fathers  holds  them.  Moors,  Jews,  Protestants,  per- 
secuted or  tolerated  according  to  the  temperament  of 
the  particular  rules  extant,  have  dwelt  in  Spain;  they 
have  never  proselyted  there  successfully  as  in  other 
countries.  To  such  an  extent  is  the  feeling  for  the 
Church  carried  that  a  Spaniard  would  never  refer, 
nor  permit  any  one  to  refer  in  his  presence,  to  the  fact 
that  a  friend  of  his  was  a  convert  to  the  Catholic 
Church,  or  even  that  he  had  had  a  non-Catholic  an- 
cestor. Such  would  be,  from  his  point  of  view,  a  ser- 
ious discourtesy,  if  not  intended  as  a  deadly  insult, 

152 


CHURCH    AND    CHARITY 

The  blood  of  a  heretic  was  a  stain  and  should  never 
be  referred  to. 

The  expression  "  blue  blood  "  is  from  the  Spanish 
term,  "  Sang  re  azul"  which  means  the  nobility. 
The  Spaniards  claim  that  those  of  noble  birth  have 
skins  delicate  enough  for  the  veins  to  show  through, 
and  they  are  called  "  sang  re  azul"  to  distinguish 
them  from  such  as  had  the  strain  of  heretic,  Jew,  or 
Moor,  to  darken  their  skins. 

In  the  mediaeval  days  the  most  fearful  curse  which 
could  be  pronounced  upon  an  enemy  was,  "  May 
knaves  kill  thee,  knaves  from  Asturias;  may  they 
kill  thee  with  iron-pointed  bludgeons  and  with  horn- 
handled  knives;  may  they  wear  clogs  and  rustic 
cloaks  and  canvas  shirts ;  may  they  be  mounted  upon 
asses  with  rope  bridles,  and  may  they  kill  thee  in  the 
fields!"  The  full  vehemence  of  this  curse  can  be 
comprehended  only  by  those  who  understand  the  at- 
titude of  mind  of  those  who  uttered  it.  Each  clause 
meant  a  death  especially  degrading  in  fashion  to  the 
mind  of  mediaeval  Spain.  To  be  killed  by  Asturians 
was  a  disgrace,  because,  according  to  the  Castilian 
notion,  to  be  killed  by  a  mere  provincial  was  disgrace- 
ful in  the  extreme.  Death  by  a  bludgeon  was  espe- 
cially abhorrent  because  this  was  the  weapon  of  the 
peasant;  by  a  horn-handled  knife,  because  knights 
wielded  gilt  poniards.  To  be  slain  by  men  wearing 
clogs,  rustic  cloaks,  and  canvas  shirts,  and  mounted 

153 


THE     SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

upon  asses  with  rope  bridles  was  a  fearful  fate,  be- 
cause nobles  wore  laced  shoes,  courtray  cloaks,  and 
embroidered  Hollands,  and  rode  horses  or  mules  with 
well  tanned  leathern  bridles;  and,  climax  of  horror! 
to  be  slain  in  the  fields  was  the  most  fearful  thing 
that  could  happen  to  a  Spaniard,  because  for  him 
there  would  be  no  priest  and  no  last  sacraments, 
therefore  he  must  die  "  unhouslled,  unaneled,"  pass- 
ing into  the  Great  Unknown  without  the  blessing  of 
the  Church. 

A  great  deal  has  been  written  by  travellers  to  the 
land  of  the  Dons  in  regard  to  the  Catholic  Church  in 
Spain,  especially  in  connection  with  the  Spanish  In- 
quisition and  its  attendant  horrors.  It  is  almost  im- 
possible to  take  up  a  book  about  the  country  which 
does  not  have  at  least  one  chapter  devoted  to  details 
so  horrible  as  to  send  cold  chills  creeping  up  and 
down  the  backs  of  even  the  most  phlegmatic. 

Frequently  these  criticisms  are  as  intelligent  and 
show  as  much  real  knowledge  of  the  subject  as  those 
of  a  recent  traveller  who  commented  upon  the  fearful 
loss  of  life  in  the  Spanish- American  War.  "  I  at- 
tended mass  at  the  Cathedral  last  Sunday,"  he 
writes,  "and  nearly  all  the  women  there  were  dressed 
in  mourning! "  One  does  not  expect  a  man  to  be  an 
authority  on  feminine  costume,  but  it  seems  that  even 
a  man  might  have  known  that  black  is  the  church 
dress  of  all  well-bred  Spanish  women.  In  the  light 

154 


The  Village  Cura 


A  Village  Funeral 


CHURCH    AND    CHARITY 

of  so  many  data  from  the  outside,  an  interior  view  of 
the  subject  is  interesting,  and  the  opinions  of  the 
Spaniards  themselves  are  of  some  value. 

"It  is  of  the  Church,  senora,  that  you  speak," 
said  a  bright  young  Spaniard  to  an  American  woman. 
"  Always  they  talk  of  religion  in  your  country,  yet 
—  a  thousand  pardons,  senora  —  I  should  not  have 
thought  the  Americans  of  so  great  a  religiousness. 
When  I  was  in  Cuba,  and  saw  the  American  soldiers, 
it  seemed  to  me  that  they  were  perhaps  quite  like 
soldiers  of  other  countries.  Why  is  it  that  your  peo- 
ple are  of  so  great  an  interest  in  the  religion  of  Spain? 
We  can  still  live,  senora,  if  in  America  they  like  to 
have  many  churches.  Why  can  not  you  let  us  have 
the  one  ?  You  think  we  believe  error,  and  wish  to  con- 
vert us,  that  you  send  your  ministers  here?  But  that 
was  what  we  wished  in  the  days  of  the  Inquisition, 
and  you  tell  me  that  was  '  fiendish,'  —  was  it  not  that 
you  called  it?  Yet  that  was  not  a  Spanish  institution, 
senora,  though  your  people  blame  it  ever  upon  the 
Spaniards.  It  was  brought  to  us  from  the  outside, 
and  our  bishops  learned  it  at  the  Council  of  Vienne. 
But  what  of  it?  The  Church  is  a  mother  —  does  not 
the  best  mother,  for  its  improvement,  punish  a 
naughty  child?  Perhaps  not  in  los  Estados  Unidos. 
I  have  indeed  seen  little  angel  Americanitos  who  I 
thought  had  never  been  punished!"  Don  Ramon 
had  at  times  a  silky  sweetness  of  tone  which  held  a 

155 


THE    SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

hint  of  sarcasm  deep  down  within  its  depths.     '  In  the 

*  Fabulas  Asceticas  '  there  is  a  sermon  of  Don  Caye- 
tano  Fernandez,  a  monk  of  the  oratory,  which  says: 

'  O  suffering,  O  cruelty ! '  Thus  cried  an  olive  tree  which  an 
active  hand  was  despoiling  of  its  branches.  '  Why  by  the  edge  of 
your  billhook  do  you  thus  cause  my  ruin?  Is  this  your  love  for 
me,  O  gardener?  Already  my  shorn  and  injured  head  has  ceased 
to  offer  either  shade  or  beauty  in  the  midst  of  the  pain  which 
overwhelms  me.' 

*  Be   silent !       Cease    your    lamentations,'   answered     the    man. 

*  What  is  required  of  you  is  not  shade  nor  beauty,  it  is  olives.     You 
will  see  in  April  with  how  many  flowers  your  poverty  will  be  clothed, 
and  the  abundant  harvest  which  you  will  give  in  November.     Until 
that  time,  O  Olive,  have  patience.' 

Do  you  also,  O  Christian,  adore  the  chastisement  of  a  severe  and 
inflexible  Providence;  it  does  but  prepare  through  suffering  the 
fruits  of  autumn. 

"  Perhaps  it  was  like  the  olive  and  the  gardener  with 
the  heretic  and  the  Church,  and  the  Inquisition  was 
the  bill-hook,  senora. 

*  You  ask  why  we  sent  away   Jews    and    Moors. 
They  were  among  our  best  citizens,  you  think,  in- 
dustrious, money-making,  peaceable?    Perhaps,  I  do 
not  know.    We  do  not  care  so  much  for  the  making 
of  money  as  some  other  nations.    There  seem  so  many 
things  better  in  Spain. 

"  It  seems  to  me  that  we  had  quite  the  right  to 
send  out  of  our  country  people  whom  we  did  not  like 
to  have  there.  We  came  first.  The  land  was  ours. 
Had  the  Moors  or  the  Jews  owned  the  land  as  your 
Indians  owned  America,  and  we  had  taken  it  from 

156 


CHURCH    AND    CHARITY 

them  and  driven  them  out,  that  would  have  been  a 
worse  situation,  to  me  it  seems.  Does  not  a  wise 
mother  send  away  from  her  children  playmates  who 
are  bad?  The  heretics  were  intermarrying  with 
Spaniards  and  perverting  their  blood  with  the  heretic 
strain,  so  they  must  go.  You  say  they  were  tortured 
to  bring  them  to  the  Faith.  I  myself  do  not  like 
torture,  but  no  one  in  your  country  was  ever  perse- 
cuted for  being  Catholic,  senora?  I  have  read  that  in 
England  torture  was  used  as  late  as  the  seventeenth 
century  in  courts  of  justice.  Why  was  it  worse  to 
use  it  in  Spain? 

'  There  are  abuses  in  the  Church,  you  say.  Per- 
haps it  is  so.  You  will  pardon  me,  senora,  if  I  can- 
not say.  If  my  mother  had  an  eye  that  was  blind, 
would  you  think  it  well  of  me  to  point  it  out  to  the 
world?  If  others  spoke  to  me  of  such  misfortune  of 
one  I  loved,  would  you  think  it  —  but  yes  —  a  little 
rude,  senora,  a  thousand  pardons!" 

There  was  a  kindly  courteousness  about  him  which 
seemed  to  fear  giving  offence,  yet  a  sturdy  truthful- 
ness which  must  speak. 

'  You  say  that  the  Spanish  men  are  falling  away 
from  the  Catholic  Church,  senora.  It  may  be  so. 
The  men  I  know  do  not  go  to  mass  as  often  as  their 
mothers  and  sisters.  Perhaps  in  America  the  Protes- 
tant churches  are  filled  with  young  men  on  Sunday 
mornings  —  is  it  so  ?  I  do  not  know  about  that, 

157 


THE    SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

senora,  never  having  had  the  honor  of  visiting  your 
wonderful  country.  But  in  Spain  if  you  see  young 
men  in  church  it  will  be  in  the  Catholic  Church, 
senora.  Have  you  heard,  perhaps,  that  Padre  Pablo, 
the  Dominican,  will  preach  in  the  Cathedral  next 
Sunday?  If  you  should  care  to  hear  him,  I  should 
be  honored  to  be  your  escort,  and  you  will  there  find 
more  than  half  the  congregation  to  be  men.  They 
will  stand  to  hear  him  preach,  —  we  have  not  seats  in 
our  Spanish  cathedrals,  you  know,  —  and  he  will 
speak  one  hour,  perhaps  two,  and  the  men  will 
stand  and  listen  and  perhaps  not  move  for  the  whole 
hour.  You  will  find,  I  think,  that  the  Church  still 
holds  the  Spanish  people  and  will  —  Pardon  me, 
senora,  the  Blessed  Sacrament  is  coming!  "  and  the 
young  officer,  wounded  in  many  battles,  a  gay  young 
man  of  the  world,  doffed  his  cap  and  knelt  in  the  street 
as  a  priest  passed  swiftly  on  his  way  to  the  dying,  the 
lights,  and  the  tinkling  of  a  little  bell  in  the  hands  of 
his  altar  boy,  proclaiming  that  he  carried  with  him  the 
Consecrated  Host. 

Such  scenes  will  be  seen  all  over  Spain,  less  fre- 
quently in  Catalonia  than  elsewhere.  Peasant  chil- 
dren in  the  street  run  to  kiss  the  priest's  hand  as  he 
passes ;  the  King  walks  to  visit  the  churches  on  Holy 
Thursday;  high  and  low,  old  and  young,  they  throng 
the  cathedrals  on  Sundays,  and  even  the  smallest  vil- 
lage church  is  never  quite  deserted.  The  cathedrals 

158 


CHURCH    AND    CHARITY 

alone  are  a  commentary  upon  the  ages  of  faith,  for 
in  Toledo,  Burgos,  Saragossa,  Seville,  Granada,  they 
rise  heavenward  in  the  whiteness  of  their  marble 
carvings  like  prayers  in  stone. 

Spanish  priests  are  of  three  kinds.  There  are 
among  them  younger  sons  of  rich  families,  who  be- 
come perhaps  canons  or  even  bishops.  The  sons  of 
the  people  of  the  middle  class,  entering  the  priesthood 
with  a  strong  bias  toward  study  and  learning,  may 
eventually  become  great  preachers,  missionaries,  or 
perhaps  luminaries  of  the  Church.  There  is  a  third 
class,  and  from  this  are  recruited  the  rank  and  file  of 
the  priesthood,  the  sons  of  poor  people,  mechanics, 
small  tradesmen,  or  peasants.  These  attend  the  vil- 
lage school,  and  from  boyhood  are  attached  to  sacred 
objects.  They  are  the  first  at  mass,  first  at  the 
rosary,  which  is  said  daily  in  all  village  schools,  al- 
ways ready  to  carry  the  lights  of  the  Viaticum  to  the 
sick.  Possibly  some  rich  devote  takes  them  up  and, 
washing  to  have  a  priest  to  pray  for  her  at  mass  every 
day,  educates  the  pious  youth  for  holy  orders. 
Often  the  bull  fighters  will  educate  a  boy  for  the 
priesthood,  or  perchance  a  boy  may  have  a  godfather 
who  has  influence  with  the  Senator  of  the  district,  and 
he  will  be  sent  to  the  seminary  at  the  expense  of  the 
county.  There  he  will  obtain  all  the  education  he  is 
capable  of  receiving,  and  will  in  the  end  probably  be- 
come a  village  cura  de  misa  y  olla,  that  is,  of  ordi- 

159 


THE     SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

nary  knowledge,  but  enough  to  attend  to  the  spiritual 
necessities  of  the  common  people,  who  are  generally 
even-tempered  and  virtuous.  There  are  many  of 
these  cur  as  in  Spain,  men  not  brilliant  intellectually, 
but  wholly  given  up  to  their  sacred  calling,  friends  of 
the  poor,  simple,  natural,  their  piety  of  a  robust  and 
practical  nature.  They  combine  with  the  spiritual 
calling  of  saving  souls  a  great  interest  in  the  tem- 
poral welfare  of  those  under  their  charge.  Often 
the  cura  is  the  village  schoolmaster,  and  many  of  the 
soldiers  and  statesmen  of  Spain  received  the  founda- 
tion of  their  education  from  the  padre,  their  royal 
road  to  learning  having  been  plentifully  strewn  with 
rods,  not  flowers,  for  the  cura  does  not  believe  in  the 
modern  theories  as  to  the  training  of  children. 

Age  steals  gently  upon  the  village  cura.  His  hair, 
silvered  over  with  care  for  others,  frames  a  face  in 
which  the  only  lines  are  those  of  gentleness  and  kind- 
ness. His  people  love  him  with  a  tender  reverence. 
He  has  baptized  their  children,  he  has  buried  their 
dead,  he  has  comforted  their  sorrows,  he  has  relieved 
their  wants,  always  he  has  been  friend  as  well  as  pas- 
tor. He  has  desired  nothing  but  the  good  of  his 
people.  No  thought  of  his  own  advancement  has 
ever  been  his.  When  at  last  the  angel  whispers  that 
he  is  called  to  better  things,  he  dies  as  calmly  and  as 
meekly  as  he  has  lived,  a  smile  on  the  gentle  old  face, 
mourned  by  two,  sometimes  three,  generations  of 

160 


CHURCH    AND    CHARITY 

those  whom  he  has  taught,  and  who  "  rise  up  and 
call  him  blessed."  It  has  been  said  by  a  recent  writer 
on  Spain  that  when  Spanish  priests  are  really  good 
they  are  "  the  most  priestly  priests  in  Christendom, 
pious,  affable,  without  affectations,  full  of  sound  and 
healthy  wisdom."  As  in  every  land  and  every  pro- 
fession, there  are  exceptions.  It  has  been  the  custom 
to  revile  the  Spanish  clergy  as  autocratic,  immoral, 
and  possessed  of  other  peculiarities  of  like  nature; 
but  as  some  one  has  aptly  expressed  it,  "  Spain  is  a 
land  of  extremes  and  contrasts,  of  snow-capped 
mountains  and  sun-kissed  valleys,  of  soldiers  and 
churchmen,  of  saints  and  sinners  " ;  and  if,  in  that 
fascinating  land,  the  sinner  seems  to  sin  with  enthu- 
siasm and  zest,  on  the  other  hand  the  saint  is  of  the 
saintliest  with  a  sweet  and  gentle  humanity. 

In  a  land  where  the  Queen  is  the  president  of  the 
Board  of  Charities  benevolences  should  be  fashion- 
able, and  while  there  is  no  regulated  poor  law  in 
Spain,  charitable  work  is  extensive.  The  city  of 
Madrid  is  divided  into  sections,  and  charity  is  admin- 
istered through  these  from  a  government  fund.  Each 
Board  of  Beneficencias  has  its  officers  and  renders  its 
accounts  to  the  governing  board,  of  which  Her 
Majesty  is  president.  Besides  these  regulated  char- 
ities, there  is  the  Confraternity  of  St.  Vincent,  com- 
posed of  men  and  women  who  work  for  charity, 
visiting  the  poor,  caring  for  the  sick,  but  this  depends 

161 


THE    SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

entirely  upon  subscriptions  from  private  sources. 
There  is  considerable  organized  charity  in  Spain,  and 
it  seems  to  do  good  work. 

One  of  the  most  pleasing  charities  is  the  foundling 
hospital,  for  the  care  of  little  ones  forsaken  by  their 
mothers  certainly  appeals  to  even  the  hardest  hearts. 
These  "  Casas  de  Expositos "  are  to  be  found  in 
nearly  all  Spanish  towns,  and  are  nearly  always  un- 
der the  care  of  the  Sisters.  The  one  at  Tafalla  has  a 
pretty  inscription  over  the  door, 

"Mi  padre  y  mi  madre 
Me  alijan  le  si, 
La  Caridad  Cristiana 
Mi  recoje  acqui."  * 

Rather  strangely,  in  view  of  the  superstition  as  to 
the  coming  of  babies,  the  storks  have  built  their  nests 
in  the  church  tower  above  the  hospital.  They  have 
dwelt  there  hundreds  of  years,  and  the  Government 
will  not  allow  them  to  be  disturbed,  for  the  story  goes 
that  a  tiny  child  once  climbed  the  tower  and  would 
have  been  dashed  to  pieces  on  the  stone  flags  below, 
had  not  a  stork  seized  his  frock  in  its  bill  and  flown 
down  to  the  hospital,  depositing  its  burden  at  the 
door. 

In  Seville,  "  La  Cuna  "  (The  Cradle)  is  one  of  the 
largest  of  the  foundling  asylums.  Set  into  the  wall 

*  (My  father  and  mother  cast  me  off  but  Christian  charity  receives  me 
here.) 

162 


CHURCH    AND    CHARITY 

is  a  round  box  which  turns  on  a  pivot.  Into  this  the 
foundlings  are  dropped,  the  person  leaving  them  be- 
ing unseen.  As  the  box  is  turned  a  bell  rings  to  give 
notice  of  their  arrival.  An  inscription  over  the  door 
says,  "  When  my  father  and  mother  forsake  me,  the 
Lord  takes  me  up."  Between  eight  hundred  and  nine 
hundred  are  left  here  each  year,  not  all  however  ille- 
gitimate children,  as  large  numbers  are  left  here  by 
their  parents  because  of  sheer  inability  to  feed  them. 

In  addition  to  the  foundling  hospitals  there  are 
many  other  charitable  institutions.  The  first  insane 
asylum  in  the  world  was  founded  by  a  Spanish  monk, 
and  the  insane,  of  whom  there  are  fortunately  very 
few,  are  remarkably  well  cared  for.  There  are  re- 
form schools  for  both  boys  and  girls.  For  Magdalens 
the  nuns  of  the  "  Adoration  of  the  Blessed  Sacra- 
ment," the  "  Ladies  of  the  Holy  Trinity,"  and  the 
"  Oblates  of  the  Holy  Redeemer,"  conduct  institu- 
tions similar  to  the  convents  of  the  Good  Shepherd  in 
this  country. 

One  of  the  most  touching  charities  is  the  Mercedes 
Asylum,  founded  in  memory  of  Queen  Mercedes, 
who  was  so  beloved  of  Alphonso  XII,  and  who  died 
just  a  year  after  her  marriage.  This  is  endowed  and 
is  kept  up  by  the  rents  of  her  estate,  and  it  is  one  of 
the  best  managed  of  Spanish  Charities. 

Countless  are  the  good  works  of  Spanish  nuns.  By 
them  the  ignorant  are  taught,  the  needy  are  cared  for, 

163 


THE     SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

the  sick  are  tenderly  nursed,  foundlings  and  orphans 
are  sweetly  mothered. 

Many  of  the  charities  are  under  the  care  of 
brothers  or  nuns,  and  these  last,  especially  the  "  Ser- 
vants of  Mary,"  are  generally  happy,  bright-eyed, 
cheerful  creatures,  with  a  pleasant  alacrity,  looking 
after  the  welfare  of  the  children  and  old  people  under 
their  care.  Troubles  they  meet  with  a  light,  "  el 
mundo  pasa"  to  quote  their  favorite  Santa  Teresa. 
They  pray,  but  they  work  as  well,  for  one  of  their 
sayings,  a  cheery  one,  is,  "  Pray,  but  swing  your 
hammer."  One  of  the  sisters  asked  an  old  pensioner 
if  he  would  help  her  to  sweep  the  corridor,  as  she  had 
a  great  deal  to  do  that  morning.  "Speak  louder,  Sis- 
ter," said  the  old  man.  "  My  ears  are  of  such  a  weak- 
ness that  I  cannot  hear  you."  The  request  was  re- 
peated in  louder  tones,  but  still  the  old  man  could 
not  hear.  Then  the  sister  wickedly  whispered, 
"  Pablo,  shall  I  beg  of  the  Good  Mother  a  cigarito 
for  you? "  Instantly  the  deaf  heard,  the  old  man 
smiled  broadly,  and  said,  "  For  the  cigarito,  muy 
gracias,  Hermana  mia.  I  will  say  many  prayers  for 
you."  "  Help  me  to  sweep  this  corridor  then,  my 
Brother,  and  thou  shalt  have  tobacco,"  said  the 
smiling  little  "  Servant  of  Mary,"  and  reluctantly  the 
old  man  obeyed. 

Despite  the  diatribes  of  the  caustic  Galdos,  who 
has  much  to  say  in  his  stories  about  fashionable  char- 

164 


Q 

I 


A  Pordiosero  (Alfred  de  Roulet) 


CHURCH    AND    CHARITY 

ity,  Spanish  women  seem  to  take  an  abiding  interest 
in  good  works  and  to  carry  them  on  not  only  with 
zest  but  with  ability.  So  intelligent  is  their  interest, 
covering  so  wide  a  field  that  one  cannot  help  feeling 
that  there  should  be  no  beggary  in  Spain,  if  organ- 
ized charity  is  able  at  all  to  do  away  with  this  public 
nuisance. 

That  the  Spanish  beggar,  picturesque  feature  of 
the  landscape  that  he  undoubtedly  is,  is  very  much  in 
fcjdence  in  this  charitable  land  is  a  fact  well  known 
to  everyone  who  has  ever  travelled  in  the  Peninsula. 
Strangely  enough  he  flourishes,  not  in  spite  of  the 
charitable  nature  of  the  Spaniard,  but  because  of  it; 
and  their  point  of  view  in  the  matter  is  particularly 
difficult  for  an  outsider  to  comprehend.  To  the  Saxon 
mind  a  beggar  is  a  monstrosity.  If  a  man  cannot 
work  at  all,  let  him  be  cared  for  by  the  State ;  if  he  can 
work,  make  him,  is  the  simple  dictum  in  western 
countries  where  the  practical  ever  predominates  over 
sentiment.  Very  different  is  the  viewpoint  of  the 
warm-hearted  Latin.  "  The  sun  is  hot,  why  work 
unless  one  really  must?  "  says  one.  "  This  poor  man 
made  in  the  image  of  God,  could  you  refuse  him  a 
penny? "  or  "  If  no  one  begs  of  us,  how  then  are  we 
to  show  that  we  are  of  a  good  heart? "  asks  another; 
and  the  beggar  is  called  the  "  friend  of  God  "  all 
through  the  Iberian  Peninsula.  The  kindest  hearted 
creature  in  the  world,  the  Spaniard  cannot  refuse  an 

165 


THE    SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

alms,  or  if  he  does,  it  is  in  so  courteous  a  manner  that 
his  refusal  carries  with  it  no  hint  of  ill  will,  or  even 
disapproval.  The  beggar  lives  then  on  "  the  purse 
of  God."  He  whines  at  the  passer  by;  if  he  has  a 
loathsome  stump  of  a  leg,  or  arm,  he  waves  it  toward 
you  cheerfully.  It  is  his  stock  in  trade,  scarcely  a 
misfortune,  since  it  insures  him  many  more  pero  chicos 
at  the  close  of  the  day,  than  come  the  way  of  his 
wholer  brother. 

'  Will  your  worship  excuse,  for  God's  sake,  my 
brother,"  says  he  who  has  nothing  to  give,  or,  "  Par- 
don me  for  the  love  of  God,"  and  the  beggar  replies, 
"  Another  day,  sefior,"  almost  as  cheerfully.  If  he 
has  received  largesse,  he  says,  "  May  God  repay  you, 
senor,"  or,  "  May  the  Blessed  Virgin  ride  forth  with 
you  and  gladden  your  way,"  when  he  is  given  even  a 
penny,  and  if  your  mood  inclines  to  more  he  will 
"  pray  for  you  until  the  hour  of  death,  muy  buen 
senor."  Ragged,  unkempt,  dirty,  a  patch  over  one 
eye,  a  leg  missing,  an  arm  in  a  sling,  El  Pordiosero  is 
the  very  incarnation  of  misery,  but  he  is  never  stupid. 
Forlorn  as  he  is,  he  is  fully  alive  to  all  the  dramatic 
possibilities  of  the  situation. 

Pedro  Paro,  "  Caballero  del  Dios,"  as  he  calls 
himself,  is  huddled  upon  the  church  steps,  looking 
like  a  heap  of  dirty  rags.  It  rains,  perhaps,  and  the 
chill  air  seems  to  pierce  to  the  bones.  Good  old 
Padre  Igna9io,  the  early  mass  just  over,  shivers  as 

166 


CHURCH    AND    CHARITY 

he  comes  into  the  open  air  and  draws  his  soutane 
closely  about  him.  It  is  threadbare,  and  his  house- 
keeper has  three  times  saved  the  money  for  a  new 
one,  only  to  see  the  pesetas  she  has  skimped  out  of 
the  market  money  disappear  to  help  the  needs  of 
some  poor  parishioner.  The  Padre's  eyes  were  on 
his  beads,  and  he  did  not  see  the  heap  at  his  feet  until 
he  caught  his  foot  in  the  rags  and  nearly  prostrated 
himself  upon  the  pavement.  He  recovered  his  equi- 
librium with  difficulty  as  a  volley  of  oaths  met  his 
ears.  These  oaths  came  from  the  rags,  now  ani- 
mated, as  a  man's  face  peered  out  and  a  rasping 
voice  said: 

:<  Name  of  a  saint!  may  not  a  man  rest  in  peace 
even  on  the  steps  of  a  church?  " 

"  My  good  man,"  said  the  gentle  Padre  Ignacio, 
*  You  are  cold.  Come  with  me  and  warm  yourself  by 
the  l>razero"  and  the  priest  turned  to  enter  the  little 
white  rectory  which  stood  beside  the  church. 

The  beggar  rose,  grasped  a  half-broken  crutch  and 
limped  painfully  after  him,  the  tap,  tap  of  the  crutch 
resounding  on  the  stone  flags.  Warmed  and  fed  he 
was  not  so  ill-looking. 

"  I  am  called  Pedro  Paro,  Your  Reverence,"  he 
answered  the  priest's  inquiries,  "  from  Murcia. 
There  I  worked  as  an  orange-picker  until  my  ac- 
cident. Oh,  a  mere  scratch  it  was,  Your  Reverence. 
There  was  but  a  difference  with  another  picker,  a 

167 


THE    SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

dog  from  Andalucia,  who  gave  me  the  lie  in  my 
teeth.  He  said  that  the  groves  of  Andalucia  were 
finer,  and  that  he  could  pick  more  in  the  hour  than  I 
in  the  day.  Now  I  leave  it  to  Your  Grace  if  I  could 
endure  that,  and  I  of  Murcia.  I  fell  upon  him 
straightway,  but  he  stuck  me  like  a  pig  in  the  leg, 
for  his  knife  came  quickly  and  mine  was  closed,  which 
is  always  a  mistake.  Remember  that,  Your  Rev- 
erence. 

"  At  first  it  was  nothing,  but  it  grew  worse  and 
then  my  master  sent  me  to  the  hospital  that  I  might 
be  cured,  Santiago!  Off  came  my  leg  with  another 
knife,  this  time  that  of  the  senor  doctor.  Crippled, 
who  then  wanted  Pedro  el  Cajo?  There  is  not  enough 
work  in  Spain  to  occupy  all  the  men  with  two  legs, 
so  I  took  to  my  crutch  and  my  little  earthen  cup  in 
which  to  catch  pennies.  It  is  not  so  bad  a  life,  the 
beggar's,  is  it,  Your  Reverence?  What,  you  do  not 
have  to  beg?  For  Dios!  I  heard  a  priest  at  mass  one 
day  and  he  begged  for  pesetas  for  his  poor  church  so 
that  even  I  might  take  a  lesson!  I  thought  then  that 
my  life  was  better  than  the  priest's,  for  I  at  least 
begged  for  myself  and  spent  what  I  got.  And  the 
little  cup  always  holds  enough  for  one's  need.  If 
the  men  give  no  alms  there  is  always  the  joy  of 
cursing  them,  and  the  women's  hearts  are  soft.  My 
faith!  I  have  wondered  why  the  criada  who  will 
flout  the  bravest  caballero  who  ever  went  on  two 

168 


CHURCH    AND    CHARITY 

legs  will  give  a  smile  and  a  real  to  a  man  with 
but  one! 

"  Si,  senor  Padre,  we  beggars  live  better  than 
does  Your  Reverence.  We  have  only  to  keep  safe 
our  own  poor  bodies,  you  have  to  save  other  people's 
souls.  What  have  I  to  fear?  Air,  sunlight,  food,  my 
freedom,  all  I  have.  To  be  sure  God  rains,  but  not 
often  here  in  Murcia,  all  the  world  knows  that.  Then 
there  is  always  some  holy  one  like  yourself,  padrecito, 
to  take  the  poor  beggar  in!  " 

The  graceless  fellow  looked  at  the  priest  with  drol- 
lery, but  flattered  as  one  born  an  actor.  He  had  once 
been  a  handsome  scamp,  black-eyed,  black-haired,  a 
lazy  smile  upon  his  lips.  His  rags  had  once  been 
gayly  colored,  and  they  were  displayed  effectively  so 
that  he  looked  the  part  most  picturesquely. 

'  You  are  not  a  Murciano,  Padre?  "  he  asked. 

"  No,  I  am  of  Saragossa,"  replied  the  priest.  This 
waif  cast  up  by  the  tide  of  fate  interested  him  as 
did  all  forlorn  humanity,  and  he  encouraged  him  to 
talk,  hoping  that  he  might  find  some  way  to  reach 
his  conscience. 

"  Saragossa,  sleepy  old  town,  I  know  it,"  Pedro 
said  thoughtfully,  "  So  sleepy  is  it  that  the  very 
towers  nod  and  lean  their  heads  as  if  to  sleep." 

"  Do  you  mean  always  to  beg? "  asked  the  Padre. 

"Why  not?"  asked  Pedro  carelessly.  "What 
else  should  I  do?  Is  it  not  a  good  trade?  And  truly 

169 


THE    SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

it  is  a  charity  for  one  to  beg;  it  brings  merit  to  those 
who  give  to  me  even  a  little.  Perchance  some  poor 
soul  will  leave  Purgatory  the  sooner  for  the  coppers 
he  has  put  into  my  cup !  Like  yourself,  good  Padre, 
I  have  my  charities.  I  would  help  to  save  souls  by 
allowing  people  to  give  to  me !  "  His  air  of  virtuous 
gravity  was  irresistible  and  the  Padre  laughed. 

'  You  laugh,  Your  Reverence,  nay,  do  not  laugh  at 
poor  Pedro.  Perhaps  you  may  one  day  be  glad  to 
remember  the  kindness  you  have  shown  the  pordio- 
sero  —  not  that  Your  Saintship  will  ever  see  Purga- 
tory," he  wagged  his  head  protestingly. 

"  As  for  me,  I  am  content.  My  only  sadness  is  to 
hear  the  '  Perdone  por  Dios,  hermano,9  with  which 
the  wise  refuse  me  aid,  for  then  I  cannot  curse  at 
them  in  payment. 

"  Good  Padre  Juan,  in  Orihuela,  was  used  to 
preach  that  in  heaven  it  was  full  of  glaciers  and  the 
angels  drank  horchata  de  chufas,  and  a  soft  rain 
ever  bedewed  the  land.  I  longed  to  go  there  until  I 
heard  a  priest  in  Navarre  say  that  in  the  heaven  all 
was  sun  and  warmth,  it  rained  only  gold  and  roast 
chicken,  and  there  was  no  snow.  Then  I  thought  that 
if  the  heaven  of  Navarre  was  one  thing  and  the 
heaven  of  Murcia  quite  another,  it  was  just  as  well 
to  stay  away  from  a  place  of  which  even  the  priests 
knew  so  little.  The  twelve  Apostles  begged  for  a 
living,  they  had  nothing  of  their  own,  why  not  I? 

170 


CHURCH    AND    CHARITY 

I  can  be  content  here  upon  earth,  for  I  know  what 
it  is  here." 

"  Come,  come,"  said  the  priest  reprovingly.  "  Do 
not  blaspheme." 

"  Not  I  —  but  I  must  go,  for  the  pasos  are  car- 
ried in  the  procession  to-day  as  it  is  Good  Friday, 
and  I  must  be  there." 

'  The  sight  will  do  you  good,  my  man,"  said  the 
kind  old  priest,  and  Pedro  hobbled  away. 

The  great  procession  was  over  and  Padre  Igna9io, 
his  work  done  for  the  day,  paused  to  see  why  a  little 
crowd  had  gathered  about  the  door  of  the  Church. 
There  he  beheld  his  friend  of  the  morning,  upon  his 
face  a  pious  devotion,  as,  seated  before  a  little  table 
upon  which  were  piles  of  coppers,  he  told  his  beads 
with  a  great  show  of  devotion. 

"  Good  senors,"  he  cried,  "  have  pity  on  the  holy 
souls!  They  cannot  rescue  themselves.  Give  your 
pesetas  and  my  prayers  will  send  your  friend  into  the 
joys  of  Paradise! " 

As  he  spoke  the  peasants  stepped  up  and  placed 
their  hard-earned  coppers  upon  the  table,  and  with 
so  pious  an  air  did  Pedro  move  his  lips  as  if  in  prayer 
that  he  might  have  deceived  the  Pope  himself,  or  at 
least  a  cardinal.  Padre  Igna9io  stood  dumbfounded 
at  such  irreverence,  and  before  he  could  recover  him- 
self to  let  the  thunders  of  ecclesiastical  wrath  loose 
upon  the  wretch,  a  gay  young  senor  stepped  up. 

171 


THE    SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

"What  is  this?"  he  demanded.  "Do  you  mean 
to  say  that  if  I  buy  a  prayer  of  you,  I  can  release  a 
soul  from  Purgatory? " 

"  By  the  beard  of  San  Pedro,  you  speak  the 
truth,"  said  El  Cajo  emphatically. 

"  Choose  another  saint,  San  Pedro  had  no  beard," 
said  the  young  man.  "  But  pray  you  for  the  soul  of 
the  senora,  my  grandmother,  for  she  was  a  terrible 
old  lady,  and  I  do  not  wish  to  meet  her  in  Purga- 
tory." And  he  laid  a  piece  of  silver  upon  the  table. 

Pedro's  eyes  gleamed.  Silver  was  none  too  plen- 
tiful with  him  and  he  liked  its  color,  but  it  would  not 
argue  well  for  his  piety  were  he  to  seem  too  eager,  so 
his  lips  moved  again,  his  eyes  were  cast  down  as  his 
fingers  passed  along  his  rosary. 

"How  now,  is  she  out?"  demanded  the  young 
noble. 

"  Name  of  a  saint!  Without  a  doubt,  thanks  be  to 
God! "  said  the  cripple  piously. 

"  Once  out  of  Purgatory,  she'll  never  return,  so 
I  '11  take  this  back,"  cried  the  young  senor  gayly,  as 
catching  up  his  silver  from  the  table  he  turned  away 
amid  a  shout  from  the  crowd.  Pedro  sprang  up 
swearing  loudly  and  sulphurously,  but  suddenly 
stopped  abashed  as  he  caught  sight  of  Padre  Ignacio. 

4  Wicked  fellow!  "  said  the  priest  sternly.  '  You 
deserve  a  flogging!  You  know  full  well  that  the 
Church  does  not  permit  the  selling  of  prayers.  Every 

ra 


CHURCH    AND    CHARITY 

parita  you  have  shall  go  into  the  Church's  poor  box; 
and  as  for  you,  go  your  way!  " 

"  Adios,  Your  Reverence,"  said  Pedro  cheerfully, 
not  a  whit  abashed.  "You  have  given  me  a  fire  to  warm 
my  feet,  a  breakfast  to  fill  my  stomach,  a  sermon  to 
save  my  soul.  You  have  done  your  best.  I  will  not, 
therefore,  complain  if  you  take  away  my  money,  for 
that  is  the  easiest  thing  in  the  world  to  get.  Adios, 
Sefior  Padre,"  and  he  hobbled  away,  crying  at  each 
passer  by,  in  his  wretched  whine, 

"Una  parita,  Senorita.     Una  parita,  Senor,  una  parita!" 


173 


CHAPTER  IX 

CONTRADICTIONS  OF  SPANISH  CHARACTER 

IT  has  long  been  the  fashion  for  the  world  at  large  to 
accept  certain  notions  in  regard  to  the  different 
nations  and  to  consider  these  notions  as  established 
facts.  The  Yankee  is  sharp,  John  Bull  is  stubborn, 
Jean  Crapaud  is  frivolous,  the  Italian  crafty,  the 
Greek  treacherous,  the  Spaniard  cruel, —  at  least  so 
"  they  "  say.  No  one  could  shake  the  belief  of  the 
average  tourist  in  these  characterizations  as  applied 
to  the  various  nations,  unless  indeed  some  occurrence 
might  meet  their  eye  which  seemed  to  deny  the  alle- 
gation, in  which  case  their  opinion  would  veer  as  far 
to  the  other  side. 

A  traveller  in  Spain  recently  said  with  an  engaging 
air  of  having  made  a  great  discovery, — 

"  I  always  believed  the  Spaniards  to  be  terribly 
cruel,  but  I  don't  think  they  can  be,  because  when  I 
was  in  Granada  I  saw  a  young  Spaniard  pick  up  a 
little  child  who  had  fallen  down  and  kiss  it!  " 

The  Inquisition,  the  expulsion  of  the  Moors  and 
Jews,  and  the  treatment  of  the  Indians  in  the  New 


SPANISH    CHARACTER 

World,  these  are  always  quoted  as  illustrative  of  the 
atrocity  of  the  Spanish  "  man's  inhumanity  to  man." 
Yet  the  Inquisition  was  as  rampant  in  France  and 
Italy  as  it  was  in  Spain.  Other  nations  have  ex- 
pelled from  their  countries  peoples  and  races  which 
they  considered  alien  to  their  interests,  and  other 
nations  have  sometimes  failed  to  treat  the  Indians  as 
men  and  brothers  so  that  none  of  these  instances  can 
be  taken  to  prove  that  the  Spaniards  are  more  cruel 
than  the  men  of  other  nations.  There  is  to-day,  how- 
ever, incriminating  evidence  of  cruelty  in  Spain. 
The  Spanish  horses  are  overworked  (as  work  horses 
are  all  over  the  world),  whipped  continuously  and 
with  an  air  of  utter  nonchalance  by  their  drivers,  and 
when  too  old  for  work  are  turned  into  the  bull  ring 
to  meet  a  speedy  death  on  the  horns  of  the  enraged 
toro. 

Yet  after  a  diligent  search  through  Spain  for  evi- 
dence of  untoward  cruelty,  of  a  predisposition  to  it 
on  the  part  of  the  people  generally,  one  is  compelled 
to  admit  that  there  is  none. 

The  Spaniard  has  in  his  composition  a  complete 
indifference  to  pain.  This  comes  from  a  strain  of 
savagery  still  latent,  and  which  seems  to  have  come 
to  him  from  every  source.  The  Berber  ancestors 
were  courageous  to  the  point  of  absolute  fearlessness ; 
the  Iberians,  when  crucified  by  their  humane  con- 
querors, the  Romans,  died  chanting  their  songs  of 

175 


THE     SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

defiance;  the  Goths  bore  uncomplainingly  wounds, 
hunger,  thirst,  and  cold  in  the  recesses  of  the  Pyr- 
enees; and  the  whole  history  of  the  Spanish  people 
shows  them  habitually  bearing  pain  and  suffering 
with  a  calm  stoicism,  even  at  times  showing  almost  a 
liking  for  it. 

It  takes  on  often  a  romantic  Quixotism,  this  Span- 
ish stoicism,  as  when,  during  the  siege  of  Pavia, 
Pescara  led  the  allied  troops  to  the  relief  of  the  be- 
leaguered town.  The  troops  were  ill  clad,  ill  fed,  and 
worse  than  ill  paid,  for  they  were  not  paid  at  all. 
The  Germans,  disgruntled,  were  unable  to  fight  and 
almost  unable  to  support  life  under  the  circum- 
stances. To  the  Spaniards  material  comforts  went 
for  little.  When  their  commander  laid  before  them 
the  situation,  they  took  the  cloaks  from  their  backs 
and  cheerfully  divided  their  rations  with  the  Ger- 
mans. It  is  needless  to  say  that  the  siege  of  Pavia 
was  raised. 

This  is  but  one  of  a  myriad  of  incidents  which 
show  the  Spanish  disregard  for  pain,  and  it  is  this 
indifference  to  pain  for  themselves  which  makes  them 
appear  indifferent  to  the  sufferings  of  others. 

The  softer  side  of  the  Spanish  character  shows,  too, 
many  lovable  traits.  When  the  Tower  of  Valladolid 
was  well  nigh  crumbling  into  ruin,  the  town  council 
decided  that  it  must  be  torn  down  for  the  safety  of 
the  citizens;  but  a  delegation  from  the  townspeople 

176 


SPANISH    CHARACTER 

was  sent  to  beg  that  it  might  be  repaired  if  possible, 
for  if  removed  it  would  destroy  the  homes  of  the 
storks  who  had  been  nesting  there  for  centuries. 

Even  the  grim  old  Emperor  Carlos  V  has  gentle 
deeds  to  his  credit,  and  in  Spain  mothers  love  to  tell 
to  their  children  the  tale  of  the  Emperor  and  the 
bird's  nest,  the  story  which  Longfellow  has  so  daintily 
retold  for  our  delectation. 

It  was  a  Flemish  campaign  and  the  rugged  old 
Emperor  was  laying  grim  siege  to  a  town  of  Flan- 
ders. Long  had  the  army  encamped  before  the  be- 
leagured  city,  long  enough  for  a  swallow  to  build  her 
nest  in  the  velvet  hangings  of  the  Emperor's  tent, 
which,  the  "  cruel  Spaniard  "  seeing, 

"'Let  no  hand  the  bird  molest' 
Said  he  solemnly,  '  nor  hurt  her !  * 
Adding  then,  by  way  of  jest, 
'Golondrina  is  my  guest, 
'T  is  the  wife  of  some  deserter ! ' 

"So  unharmed  and  unafraid 
Sat  the  swallow  still  and  brooded 
Till  the  constant  cannonade 
Through  the  walls  a  breach  had  made 
And  the  siege  was  thus  concluded. 

"Then  the  army,  elsewhere  bent, 
Struck  its  tents  as  if  disbanding; 
Only  not  the  Emperor's  tent, 
For  he  ordered,  ere  he  went, 
Very  curtly,  *  Leave  it  standing ! ' 

177 


THE     SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

"So  it  stood  there  all  alone 
Loosely  flapping,  torn  and  tattered 
Till  the  brood  was  fledged  and  flown, 
Singing  o  'er  those  walls  of  stone 
Which  the  cannon-shot  had  shattered." 

The  eternal  contradiction  of  Spanish  character! 
The  Emperor  who  spared  a  bird's  brood  thought 
nothing  of  bombarding  a  whole  city  and  putting  to 
death  scores  of  its  inhabitants. 

One  sees  the  same  contradiction  to-day  in  a  young 
officer,  well-known  as  the  most  gallant  of  warriors, 
who  insisted  upon  a  visitor's  snapping  her  kodak  at 
his  little  cousin,  when  there  were  no  films  in  the  cam- 
era, because,  as  he  said,  "  La  Nina  would  feel  disap- 
pointed, senora,  since  she  had  thought  to  go  away  to 
the  Estados  Unidos  in  the  senora's  little  picture  box." 
Another  young  officer  had  a  pretty  wife  who  kept 
him  well  in  check,  knowing  his  spendthrift  habits. 
She  allowed  him  half  a  peseta  a  day  for  his  drink  of 
aguardiente  —  enough,  since  of  this  seductive  bever- 
age a  "  thimbleful  is  fire."  He  was  wont  to  complain 
bitterly  that  nearly  every  day  as  he  went  to  lunch  he 
met  an  old  blind  beggar,  and  was  forced  to  go  without 
his  liquor,  because  he  could  no  more  have  passed  the 
wretched  creature  unnoticed,  than  he  would  have  hes- 
itated to  fight  a  duel  with  one  who  had  insulted  his 
honor,  or  touched  his  dignity. 

Dignity  is  the  birthright  of  every  Spaniard.  It 
envelops  him  like  his  cloak,  and  he  never  lays  aside  the 

178 


SPANISH    CHARACTER 

one  any  more  than  he  does  the  other,  and  Madrilenos 
say  that  it  is  safe  to  put  away  the  capa  on  the  forti- 
eth of  May  only.  Yet  this  dignity  has  its  seeming 
contradictions,  for,  proud  as  Lucifer  himself,  of  his 
ancestry,  his  country,  and  his  race,  yet  the  Spaniard 
is  the  most  democratic  creature  in  Europe.  There  is 
not,  however,  the  slightest  real  contradiction  in  these 
two  traits.  They  march  excellently  well  together, 
and  their  offspring  is  the  charming  courtesy  which  is 
inherent  in  the  breast  of  every  Spaniard. 

The  Spanish  dignity  is  unassailable.  It  is  not  a 
veneer  to  be  put  on  or  taken  off  as  the  occasion  de- 
mands. It  is  deep-seated,  and  neither  poverty  nor 
wealth  affects  it;  indeed,  wealth  is  a  factor  of  small 
importance  in  the  social  world  of  Spain,  and  a  poor 
grandee  is  quite  as  important  as  a  rich  one,  since  "  be- 
neath the  king  all  are  equal." 

This  delightful  courtesy  one  finds  all  over  Spain 
in  all  classes  and  conditions.  The  house  of  a  Grandee 
of  Spain  with  the  Golden  Key  upon  his  hip  is  "  la 
casa  de  Usted"  but  so,  also,  is  the  little  whitewashed, 
two-roomed  peasant  cottage  which  the  clambering 
pepper  vine  covers  with  its  scarlet  glow. 

Someone  has  said  that  the  Spanish  peasant  is  a 
"  spiritless,  down-trodden  drudge,  yet  at  heart  the 
pattern  of  a  Christian  gentleman."  Both  estimates 
may  be  a  bit  extravagant,  but  he  is  certainly  a  very 
gentlemanly  peasant,  who,  although  he  thinks  the 

179 


THE     SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

traveller  "  chiflado  "  (cracked)  will  go  out  of  his  way 
to  guide  the  stranger  anywhere  or  do  any  pleasant 
service  for  him  cordially  and  well.  Even  the  tiny 
children  are  taught  to  be  polite ;  the  schoolboys  argue 
with  "  Perdone,  seiior,"  the  friar  doffs  his  hat  in  pass- 
ing even  to  a  child,  and  old  and  young  go  out  of 
their  way  to  do  you  a  kindness. 

Do  not,  however,  tread  ever  so  lightly  upon  the 
tail  of  the  Spanish  lion!  You  will  find  out  that  this 
seemingly  well-tamed,  domesticated  animal  is  not 
so  far  removed  from  savagery  as  to  have  altogether 
lost  his  roar! 

An  English  tourist  in  Spain,  of  the  lord  of  crea- 
tion type,  who  considered  everyone  not  above  him  as 
below,  was  travelling  by  carriage  and  sent  his  mayoral 
to  sup  in  the  kitchen.  Such  an  impoliteness  had 
never  happened  to  this  Iberian  Jehu  in  all  his  exist- 
ence, and  he  thought  his  heretic  employer  would 
have  been  honored  by  sitting  down  at  the  same  table 
with  any  Spaniard!  He  said  nothing,  however.  He 
reflected,  and  the  more  he  thought,  the  greater  pro- 
portions the  insult  attained.  Next  day  his  in- 
dignation reached  the  culminating  point  at  some 
brusquerie  of  the  Englishman,  and  he  put  him  out  of 
the  carriage  in  a  lonely  highway,  miles  from  his  des- 
tination. Then  whipping  up  his  horses,  he  cried,  "  I 
am  sorry  to  incommode  you,  my  lord,  but  since  you 
find  me  not  fit  to  eat  beside  you,  I,  Don  Jose  Balbino 

180 


SPANISH    CHARACTER 

Bustamente  y  Orozco,  find  you  not  fit  to  ride  beside 
me.  Adios! " 

It  was  perfectly  impossible  for  this  man  to  have 
regarded  himself  as  even  a  "  little  lower  than  the 
angels,"  and  the  fact  that  he  was  a  working  man 
had  absolutely  no  bearing  upon  the  situation.  He 
worked,  he  would  say,  when  necessary,  but  that  was 
a  mere  circumstance  and  could  have  no  effect  upon 
his  character. 

Another  strange  contradiction  of  the  Spanish 
character  which  has  led  to  a  misconception  of  Span- 
ish nature  is  the  apparent  laziness  of  a  man  who  can 
work  with  a  veritable  fury,  if  it  seems  to  him  neces- 
sary. Studying  Spanish  character  one  must  take 
into  consideration  the  race,  clime,  and  religion,  all 
essential  factors  in  the  formation  of  character. 

It  has  always  been  the  fashion  to  lay  to  Moorish 
influences  many  of  the  typically  Spanish  characteris- 
tics, but  what  seems  in  the  Spaniard  allied  to  the 
Moslem  has  a  much  deeper  root  than  the  Moslem 
invasion.  At  one  time  in  her  history  Spain  was  un- 
doubtedly a  portion  of  the  North  African  continent, 
and  the  people  were  originally,  doubtless,  of  Berber 
stock,  modified  by  admixtures  of  Carthaginian, 
Roman,  Celtic,  Gothic,  and  Moorish  blood;  but  the 
present  day  Spaniard  still  shows  unmistakably  the 
original  Berber  strain.  From  the  Berbers,  now  rep- 
resented by  the  free  Hill  Kabyles  of  Northern 

181 


THE    SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

Africa,  comes  that  strain  of  simple  savagery  which 
nineteen  hundred  years  of  civilization  has  failed  to 
eradicate  completely. 

The  Spaniard  by  choice  leads  the  simple  life.  To 
lead  a  more  elaborate  one  he  might  have  to  work,  and 
always  he  prefers  to  curtail  his  wants  rather  than 
work  for  the  wherewithal  to  elaborate  them.  He 
can  work.  Often  he  will  evince  a  perfect  fury  of 
energy,  but  upon  research  it  will  be  found  to  be 
because  there  is  some  end  in  view  of  enough  value  to 
him  to  cause  work  to  seem,  for  the  time  at  least,  a 
more  desirable  thing  than  idleness. 

A  Spanish  don  was  once  passing  with  a  friend 
down  one  of  the  shopping  streets  in  one  of  our  largest 
cities.  He  was  a  typical  Spaniard,  of  good  family, 
proud,  dignified,  clever,  a  terribly  hard  worker.  It 
was  "  carriage  day,"  at  the  huge  emporium  of  fash- 
ion, carried  on  for  the  benefit  of  American  femi- 
ninity, and  the  street  was  crowded  to  overflowing 
with  fashionable  women  in  their  elegant  costumes, 
awaiting  their  turns  to  alight  from  the  superbly  ac- 
coutred carriages.  He  had  just  been  speaking  of 
feeling  tired  with  a  winter  of  unusually  hard  work 
as  he  came  upon  this  scene.  His  sombre  face  lighted 
up  suddenly,  and  he  added,  "  Work!  I  would  work 
myself  to  death  if  I  could  see  Maria,  my  wife,  there 
in  that  parade  with  the  finest  of  them,  and  some  day 
I  will  do  it!"  It  is  the  more  remarkable  to  see  a 

182 


Interior  of  Cordova  Cathedral 


The  Escorial 


SPANISH    CHARACTER 

Spaniard  work,  because  popular  feeling  —  that  which 
rules  the  world  —  has  for  so  many  centuries  been  op- 
posed to  labor.  "  Let  slaves  do  the  work,  we  will 
fight,"  was  the  early  attitude  of  mind.  Only  in  the 
northwestern  provinces,  Galicia  and  the  Asturias, 
did  the  people  show  any  facility  for  manual  labor, 
and  these  workers  are  looked  down  upon  by  the  rest 
of  Spain. 

A  tourist  once  said  to  a  beggar  who,  with  Yankee 
thrift,  she  supposed  would  be  glad  to  turn  an  honest 
penny,  "  Carry  my  bag  up  those  steps  and  I  will  give 
you  a  copper." 

"  A  thousand  pardons,  senora,  I  am  not  a  laborer," 
was  the  answer. 

In  regard  to  the  Spaniard  one  would  occasionally 
have  to  paraphrase  the  old  saw,  and  put  it  "  I  can 
but  beg,  to  dig  I  am  ashamed  " ;  for  if  reduced  to  the 
extremity,  nearly  any  ordinary  Spaniard  would  as 
soon  ask  for  money  as  be  paid  for  doing  a  service. 

This  must  not  be  misconstrued  and  the  idea  taken 
that  the  Spaniard  is  constitutionally  lazy.  He  is 
naturally  the  most  energetic  creature  in  the  world. 
He  may  work  from  principle  or  because  the  end  for 
which  he  is  working  seems  to  justify  the  effort,  but 
never  will  he  work  in  Anglo-Saxon  fashion  because 
he  loves  work  for  work's  sake  alone.  His  energies 
will  expend  themselves  lavishly  upon  his  fiestas,  the 
corridas,  dancing,  anything  he  feels  worth  while;  for 

183 


THE    SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

these  he  will  be  veritably,  un  caballero  de  la  humana 
energia. 

One  of  the  strangest  of  Spanish  characteristics  is 
the  passion  for  the  consideration  of  death.  This 
would  seem  the  most  complete  of  paradoxes  for  one 
of  his  nature,  alive  to  the  finger-tips,  as  is  the  Span- 
iard. King,  noble,  peasant,  all  alike  regard  death  as 
a  salutory,  wellnigh  pleasing  topic  of  conversation. 
Garcilasso  de  la  Vega,  brilliant  courtier,  brave 
fighter,  gayest  of  cavaliers,  wrote  poems  on  the  sub- 
ject of  death.  Jorge  de  Manrique,  gallant  soldier 
of  Queen  Isabella,  wrote  in  letters  of  gold  that 
inimitable  copla: 

'*  Tourney  and  joust  that  charmed  the  eye, 
And  scarf  and  gorgeous  panoply, 

And  nodding  plume; 
What  were  they  but  a  pageant  scene  ? 
What  but  the  garlands  gay  and  green, 

That  deck  the  tomb  ? 

"O  Death,  no  more,  no  more  delay; 
My  spirit  longs  to  flee  away, 

And  be  at  rest; 

The  will  of  Heaven  my  will  shall  be,  — 
I  bow  to  the  divine  decree, 

To  God's  behest." 

In  history  as  well  as  literature  this  trait  appears, 
for  there  are  countless  instances  of  nobles  with  the 
whole  world  before  them,  voluntarily  leaving  such 
attractions  to  become  monks  or  hermits,  their  cell 
their  only  world,  the  contemplation  of  a  skull  their 

184 


SPANISH    CHARACTER 

principal  occupation.  In  nothing  was  Charles  V 
truer  Spaniard  than  in  this  trait,  and  Yuste's  nar- 
row walls  contained  his  coffin  long  before  the  mighty 
ruler  ever  filled  it ;  while  Philip,  his  son,  perpetuated 
his  ideas  of  decease  in  that  mighty  Temple  of  Death, 
the  Escorial. 

To  the  Spanish  temperament  there  seems  to  be  a 
perfect  fascination  in  this  sombre  subject,  and  Span- 
ish art  as  well  as  literature  shows  this.  The  fright- 
fully realistic  paintings  of  Ribera,  upon  whose 
emaciated  saints  the  flesh  seems  to  hang  in  shreds; 
the  fearful  gore  of  Goya's  canvasses,  the  Crucified 
Christ,  his  wounds  fresh  and  bleeding  before  our 
very  eyes,  the  sufferings  of  the  martyrs  depicted  with 
a  realism  as  fearful  as  it  is  faithful,  all  these  reveal 
the  strange  taste  of  the  Spaniard  for  the  terrible 
things  of  suffering  and  death. 

What  a  paradox  this  taste  for  horrors  seems  when 
one  recalls  the  apparently  innate  gaiety  of  one's 
Spanish  friends!  In  Andalucia  gaiety  seems  the 
birthright  of  the  people,  and  even  the  more  sober 
Aragonese  and  Castilians  sparkle  at  wit  and  humor 
and  enjoy  the  dance.  The  extremes  are  ever  pres- 
ent in  these  Spanish  friends  of  ours.  Don  Juan  de 
Manara,  such  an  abandoned  libertine  that  he  wrote 
his  own  epitaph  and  had  chronicled  upon  his  grave- 
stone, "  The  greatest  sinner  who  ever  lived,"  died  a 
monk,  considered  almost  a  saint,  even  in  that  land  of 

185 


THE     SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

saints,  where  even  the  common  people  are  so  famil- 
iar with  saintships  that  a  peasant  proverb  is,  "  Do 
not  speak  ill  of  thy  neighbor,  lest  he  be  a  saint 
manana." 

There  is  something  so  charmingly  friendly  about 
the  Spanish  gayety,  that  it  is  most  infectious.  Not 
long  ago,  a  dignified  and  correct  American  chaperon 
arrived  in  Spain,  filled  to  the  brim  with  accepted 
ideas  about  cruel  Spain.  Landing  in  Cadiz,  fresh 
from  the  proprieties  of  Boston,  she  lost  some  of  her 
preconceived  notions  when  a  young  sergeant  of 
marines  spent  half  a  day  looking  up  some  lost  lug- 
gage for  her.  This  she  set  down,  however,  to  his 
being  of  good  family,  for  "  Of  course  a  gentleman 
born  is  a  gentleman  in  any  country."  This  platitude 
was  considerably  shaken  next  day  when  a  peasant 
went  half  a  mile  out  of  his  way  to  direct  her  when 
she  was  hopelessly  lost.  Being  a  Spanish  peasant 
he  was  of  course  born  a  gentleman  in  his  own  esti- 
mation, which  naturally  made  him  act  like  one,  but 
this  point  of  view  she  did  not  understand.  One  thing 
followed  another,  until  three  months  later,  in  gay 
Sevilla,  it  was  a  beautiful  and  touching  sight  to  see 
her  at  the  tertulia  of  Dona  Tal  y  Fulano.  Her  eye- 
glasses were  gone  with  her  air  of  New  England  prim- 
ness. She  was  dancing  with  the  gay  young  son  of  the 
house,  not  in  the  sedate  proprieties  of  the  "  square 
dance  "  of  the  small  but  ladylike  suburb  of  Boston 

186 


SPANISH    CHARACTER 

from  which  she  came,  but  a  genuine  Spanish  waltz, 
than  which  there  is  no  greater  poetry  in  motion ;  and 
she  was  enjoying  it  not  less  than  the  whisper  in  her 
ear  that  she  was  "  the  most  beautiful  senorita  in  all 
the  world,  with  hair  of  night  and  eyes  like  stars,  and 
cheeks  like  the  breath  of  dawn!  " 

This  national  gaiety  is  closely  allied  with  a  certain 
love  of  novelty  which  is  one  of  the  most  contradictory 
characteristics,  if  taken  in  connection  with  that  un- 
questioning devotion  to  tradition  strong  in  every 
Spaniard.  The  Spaniard  is  as  curious  as  a  child  over 
anything  new.  He  must  possess  himself  of  it  and 
comprehend  it  completely,  yet  on  the  other  hand  he 
will  adhere  loyally  to  old  fashions,  old  customs,  old 
usages,  because  "  the  things  which  were  my  father's 
are  good  enough  for  me."  It  does  not  matter  at  all 
whether  the  antiquity  is  the  celebration  of  a  certain 
festa,  or  a  method  of  ploughing  with  a  forked  stick, 
it  completely  satisfies  the  Spaniard  because  it  is 
Spanish.  This  satisfaction  with  the  established  order, 
bred  of  a  certain  deep  loyalty  of  nature,  may  be  a 
bar  to  twentieth  century  progress,  but  it  gives  an 
admirable  poise  of  character  to  those  compelled  to 
simplicity  of  living.  There  is  a  certain  fine  dignity 
about  this  mode  of  thought  which  one  outside  of  its 
limits  must  admire,  no  matter  how  droll  may  seem 
some  of  the  results  or  how  far-fetched  it  may  seem 
to  foreign  notions.  Some  time  ago  a  party  was  trav- 

187 


THE     SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

elling  by  carriage  through  an  unfrequented  portion 
of  Spain  and  stopped  for  a  rest  in  a  pretty  little 
village.  The  venta  was  pleasant,  the  puchero  excel- 
lent, the  serving  maid  very  pretty,  the  men  of  the 
party  were  quite  willing  to  tarry  and  smoke  cigaritos, 
finding  the  wine  of  the  country  not  bad.  The  femi- 
nine element  was  not  averse  to  a  little  rest  beside  the 
way.  They  were  beginning  to  trifle  with  the  charms 
of  manana  —  why  hasten  on  their  journey?  After 
all,  it  really  made  no  difference  when  they  arrived 
anywhere!  The  landlord  urged  their  tarrying. 

*  Why  leave  a  place  that  you  have  just  found? " 
he  queried,  —  "a  place  like  this,  than  which  there 
could  not  possibly  be  any  in  Spain  more  beautiful!  " 
He  gazed  with  mild  complacency  down  the  village 
street,  at  the  fifteen  or  twenty  little,  white-washed 
houses.  "  It  is  the  greatest  good  fortune  that  you 
have  arrived  at  this  moment,"  he  added.  '  To- 
morrow is  the  feast  of  San  Tomas,  the  patron  of  our 
village,  and  we  shall  have  our  annual  festa  in  his 
honor.  This,  without  doubt,  will  be  the  opportunity 
of  your  lives  to  observe  one  of  the  really  fine  proces- 
sions of  our  country.  There  will  be  a^  superb  parade 
of  civil  dignitaries,  ecclesiastics,  and  military,  all  in 
one  harmonious  whole,  and  there  will  be  also  excel- 
lent music.  You  will  remain?  " 

The  travellers  looked  at  each  other.  In  the  face  of 
such  an  unexpected  and  unusual  treat  not  one  of  them 

188 


SPANISH    CHARACTER 

had  the  energy  to  think  of  leaving,  so  they  all  tran- 
quilly remained. 

The  next  day  broke  fair.  The  sun  was  bright  as 
beauty's  eyes.  The  air  soft  as  a  maid's  caress. 
Breakfast  was  excellent,  the  women  dallied  long  over 
their  thick  chocolate  and  finger  rolls,  the  men  drank 
coffee  and  smoked  lazily.  At  last  it  dawned  upon 
them  that  the  sun  grew  high  above  them.  Where 
was  the  parade? 

"  Patience,  senors,"  mine  host  smiled  upon  them. 
"  Affairs  of  such  magnitude  may  not  be  arranged  in 
one  moment,  or  even  two.  It  will  come,  and  it  will 
be  even  finer  than  usual,  because  the  news  has  gone 
abroad  that  my  humble  house  has  been  honored  in 
becoming  la  casa  de  ustedos!  Ah!  I  hear  music,  it 
comes.  Now  you  shall  see!  "  His  face  was  wreathed 
in  smiles,  and  the  parade  swept  past. 

First  came  kis  excellency  the  mayor,  a  florid  man, 
large  and  riding  upon  a  correspondingly  small 
donkey.  He  was  followed  by  two  civil  guards  who 
represented  the  military  element.  Close  at  their  heels 
came  the  village  band  in  active  eruption,  consisting 
of  a  young  peasant,  twanging  lustily  upon  his  guitar. 
The  music  of  the  band  was  not  so  smoothly  rendered 
as  it  would  have  been,  had  not  the  musician  been 
maliciously  interfered  with  by  the  personification  of 
the  union  of  Church  and  State  which  followed.  This 
union  was  represented  by  a  small  altar  boy  in  frilled 

189 


THE    SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

white  robes,  who  carried  in  one  hand  a  small  Spanish 
flag,  in  the  other  a  gorgeous  banner  embroidered  with 
a  portrait  of  San  Tomas.  With  the  staff  of  Spain's 
proud  banner  he  slyly  prodded  the  band  in  the  ribs, 
much  to  the  detriment  of  the  music  and  also  of  the 
band's  soul. 

"  Here  endeth  the  first  lesson,"  murmured  one  of 
the  travellers,  but  the  host  was  radiant. 

'  Was  it  not  fine?  "  he  demanded,  not  awaiting  the 
affirmative  he  was  sure  would  come.  "  I  am  positive 
you  will  see  San  Tomas  no  more  highly  honored  in 
any  other  city  in  Spain,  or  in  the  world,  for  that 
matter.  We  have  had  this  parade  for  years,  and  our 
fathers  had  it  before  us.  There  is  none  better. 
Though  I  have  heard  that  at  San  Pedro,  the  next 
village,  there  is  a  barrel  organ.  I  should  like  to  see  it." 

Loyal  soul!  Typical  Spaniard!  Faithful  to  the 
past  and  its  traditions,  still  the  subtle  temptations 
of  novelty  assail  him.  His  band  was  perfect,  yet  the 
barrel  organ  opened  rare  possibilities  of  the  unknown, 
as  to  Balboa  and  Cortez  and  others  of  sea-faring 
days,  lands  beyond  seas  tempted  with  novelty,  yet 
once  discovered,  they  were  but  New  Spain  to  the 
mother  country's  loyal  sons. 

It  was  this  adherence  to  established  order  which 
made  the  Spaniard  so  determined  to  keep  at  any  cost 
the  colonies  their  sea  rovers  had  won;  it  was  this 
which  made  him  so  desperate  at  their  loss.  Thought- 

190 


SPANISH    CHARACTER 

ful  Spaniards  will  tell  you  frankly  that  their  country 
is  far  better  off  without  the  colonies.  For  years  they 
had  taken  the  heart's  blood  of  the  mother  country, 
by  drawing  from  the  home,  the  field,  and  the  shop, 
the  best  young  men  for  the  army  and  navy. 

"  More 

The  battle's  loss  may  profit  those  who  lose 
Than  victory  advantage  those  who  gain." 

Much  still  remains  to  Spain  peculiarly  her  own 
and  the  Spanish  feeling  in  the  matter  is  plainly 
shown  in  the  exquisite  lines  of  the  Duke  de  Rivas, 
written  for  the  Tercentenary  of  Velasquez: 

"It  is  a  sombre  and  a  weeping  sky 
That  lowers  above  thee  now,  unhappy  Spain, 
Thy  'scutcheon  proud  is  dashed  with  dimming  rain, 
Uncertain  is  thy  path  and  deep  thy  sigh. 
All  that  is  mortal  passes;  glories  die; 
This  hour  thy  destiny  allots  thee  pain; 
But  for  the  worker  of  thy  woes  remain 
Those  retributions  slowly  forged  on  high. 

Put  thou  thy  hope  in  God;  what  once  thou  wert 
Thou  yet  shalt  be  by  labor  of  thy  sons 
Patient  and  true,  with  purpose  to  atone; 
And  though  the  laurels  of  the  loud-voiced  guns 
Are  not  with  us  to-day,  this  balms  our  hurt, 
Cervantes  and  Velasquez  are  our  own. 

It  shows  one  of  the  apparent  contradictions  of  the 
Spanish  character  that  there  appears  to  be  to-day 
absolutely  no  feeling  against  Americans  in  the 
Peninsula,  save  one  of  friendliness.  True,  shortly 

191 


THE    SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

after  the  close  of  the  war,  the  women  of  a  certain 
Spanish  town  assembled  in  the  market  place  and 
stoned  the  statue  of  Columbus  because  he  had  dis- 
covered America,  yet  "  el  mundo  pasa"  and  there 
dwells  no  rancor  in  the  Spanish  breast.  Passion  in 
plenty,  but  seldom  is  there  deep-seated  revenge;  for 
when  all  the  contradictions  have  been  contradicted, 
the  keynote  of  the  Spanish  character  would  ^eem  to 
the  close  observer,  to  be  a  kindly  and  romantic  chiv- 
alry, amounting  almost  to  Quixotism. 


192 


CHAPTER  X 

FOLK  LORE  AND  PROVERBS 

T  N  Spain  the  milkman  brings  to  your  door  milk  in 
cool  stone  jars,  set  astride  his  patient  little 
donkey's  back.  Perhaps  his  name  is  Gil,  or  Juan, 
but  be  that  as  it  may,  he  will  always  have  time  to 
take  his  cigarito  from  his  lips  and  tell  you  some  quaint 
bit  of  folk  lore  as  he  reflectively  puffs  the  smoke  into 
rings. 

He  has  a  dry  wit,  this  quaint  philosopher  of  the 
people  and  there  is  a  caustic  tinge  in  much  that  he 
says,  albeit  droll,  and  he  is  almost  malicious  when  he 
gleefully  tells  of  the  "  secret  of  Anchullos,"  a  tale 
which  Spanish  husbands  love  to  tell. 

"  The  town  of  Anchullos,  senora,"  says  old  Gil, 
"  lies  in  a  deep  gorge  sunk  between  two  mountains 
covered  with  grazing  sheep.  The  shepherds  had  to 
watch  these  every  minute  for  fear  they  fall  into  the 
ravine  and  be  killed  for  it  seemed  as  if  every  sheep 
were  determined  to  eat  from  the  edge  of  the  gorge. 
Now  the  flock  on  one  side  was  tended  by  a  young 
man,  and  that  on  the  other  side  by  a  girl,  and  as  they 

193 


THE    SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

both  had  all  they  could  do  to  watch  their  sheep,  they 
proceeded  to  watch  each  other.  Then  they  fell  in 
love  with  one  another,  but  fearing  their  parents  would 
not  permit  this  love,  they  wished  to  keep  it  secret. 
Not  a  word  of  it  did  they  breathe  in  the  village, 
senora.  No,  indeed!  The  pretty  Piedad  could  keep 
a  secret,  albeit  she  is  a  woman,  and  our  proverb  says, 
'  A  woman  with  a  secret  has  a  friend,  her  friend  has 
one  and  hers  —  Enrico,  too,  he  would  tell  nothing, 
of  course.  Is  he  not  a  man?  So,  senora,  they  did 
not  tell  their  love  to  any  soul.  They  did  but  stand 
on  opposite  sides  of  the  gorge  and  call  to  each  other. 

"  '  Beloved  of  my  soul! '  bellows  Enrico.  *  Thine 
eyes  are  beautiful  as  night.  I  love  thee! ' 

"  '  Tell  not  of  thy  love  in  the  village,  Enrico  mio, 
lest  trouble  befall  us ! '  screamed  Piedad. 

"  '  Dost  thou  love  me,  angel  of  my  dreams? '  howled 
Enrico. 

"  '  I  love  thee  even  as  thou  lovest  me,'  shrieked  his 
beloved.  '  But  wait  thou  yet  a  minute  while  I  drive 
this  wickedest  of  sheep  from  the  cliff,  for  he  is  de- 
termined to  kill  himself  that  I  may  not  talk  to  thee, 
the  evil  fellow!' 

"  c  I,  too,  have  a  four-footed  monster  whose  breast 
is  filled  with  the  same  desire,'  bawled  Enrico.  '  At 
this  moment  he  hangs  on  three  legs,  his  nose  over  the 
edge,  and  no  tail  to  pull  him  back  by.  Adios,  my 
adored  one.  Forget  me  not! ' 


FOLK    LORE    AND    PROVERBS 

'  Never  shall  I  forget ! '  came  the  answer,  '  but 
tell  it  not  in  the  village ! ' 

"  This  continued  for  weeks,  senora,  till  all  the  vil- 
lage, passing  by,  had  heard  the  conversations 
screamed  across  the  gorge ;  and  from  that  day  a  secret 
poorly  kept  has  been  called  a  *  secret  of  Anchullos.' 
Will  the  senora  pardon  me  for  telling  such  a  story 
about  women?  It  is  of  course  only  in  Spain  that  a 
woman  would  do  such  a  foolish  thing  as  did  Piedad. 
In  the  senora's  country  they  have  more  sense,"  and 
he  laughed. 

"  In  Spain  it  is  men  and  women  both  who  talk  too 
much,"  he  continued.  '  We  have  a  saying,  when  a 
person  is  too  curious,  that  he  is  one  who  would  open 
the  chest  of  the  Goth ;  and  there  is  a  story  about  that. 
It  was  in  the  city  of  Toledo,  senora,  in  very  old  days, 
when  Gothic  people  dwelt  in  Spain;  pagans,  senora, 
but  not  of  so  bad  a  manner  as  the  Moors.  There  was 
near  the  city  a  cavern,  called  enchanted  by  some, 
though  of  course  one  does  not  believe  in  enchant- 
ments." Gil  looked  over  his  shoulder  and  furtively 
blessed  himself.  "  Over  the  door  of  the  cave  were 
the  words,  *  Whenever  a  king  shall  pass  this  thresh- 
old, the  empire  of  Spain  shall  fall.' 

"  Now  the  King  of  the  Goths  was  a  man  of  great 
wickedness.  He  was  that  Don  Rodrigo  who  had 
treated  ill  Florinda,  daughter  of  el  Conde  Juliano. 
This  King  laughed  at  danger.  Nothing  could  happen 

195 


THE     SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

to  him  if  he  entered  the  cave,  and  he  wished  to  see 
what  was  there.  So,  though  wise  men  shook  their 
heads,  and  begged  him  not  to  venture,  he  went  to  the 
cave  and  entered.  There  he  saw  a  huge  chest,  and 
upon  its  lid  were  the  words,  *  Open,  and  thou  shalt 
see  wonders.' 

"  He  opened  the  chest,  for  he  needed  money  with 
which  to  pay  his  soldiers,  who  murmured  greatly  that 
pesetas  came  not  their  way.  There  had  been  of  late 
few  cities  taken,  and  therefore  no  spoil  to  divide. 
Within  the  chest  —  behold!  No  money,  only  a  linen 
scroll  upon  which  were  painted  strange  figures  of 
turbaned  Moors,  and  these  words,  '  Who  opens  this 
chest  shall  lose  the  kingdom  of  Spain  by  these 


armies.' 


"  The  King  was  angry  and  scoffed  at  the  scroll. 
Pero,  senora,  it  was  but  a  few  days  later  that  he  lost 
his  kingdom  to  these  very  Moors,  and  he  and  his  army 
lay  dead  on  the  field  of  battle.  It  was  the  aid  of 
Count  Julian  which  gained  the  day  for  the  Moors, 
and  he  had  become  their  friend  because  of  the  King's 
wickedness  toward  the  Count's  daughter. 

"  And  that  is  why  we  say  of  a  curious  person  that 
'  he  would  open  the  chest  of  the  Goth,'  senora. 

"  There  is  yet  another  saying  about  a  chest,  senora, 
here  in  Spain,  and  that  is,  when  a  person  would  cheat 
another  in  a  bargain,  we  say  that  he  would  give  us 
'the  chest  of  El  Cid.*  You  who  know  so  much, 

196 


FOLK    LORE    AND    PROVERBS 

senora,  and  your  face  so  beautiful,  too  (you  know 
in  Spain  we  say  that  beauty  and  knowledge  march 
not  together) ,  must  know  that  El  Cid,  like  Don  Rod- 
rigo,  needed  money;  which  is  not  strange,  senora, 
for  even  to-day  in  Spain  there  are  men  who  are  in 
need  of  money.  Not  myself,  oh  no,  senora.  The 
kindness  of  the  senora  in  always  so  promptly  paying 
for  the  milk  my  donkey  is  honored  to  bring  to  her, 
and  sometimes  a  pero  chico  over, —  ah,  thank  you, 
senora,  that  pero  chico  is  the  brightest  I  have  seen 
for  many  a  long  day,  senora,  because  of  the  touch  of 
your  fair  fingers!  But  it  was  of  The  Cid  I  was  to 
tell  you.  There  were  two  merchants,  vile  Jews,  who 
had  many  pesetas,  which  is  the  custom  of  their  race, 
unbelieving  dogs!  Rachel  and  Vidal  received  word 
from  The  Cid  that  he  wanted  money.  They  sent  back 
answer  that  they  had  none,  but  if  they  lent  it  they 
must  have  good  security.  See  the  falseness  of  their 
hearts?  Why  must  they  have  security  for  that  they 
had  not? 

"  But  Ruy  Diaz  de  Bivar,  which  was  our  Cid's  real 
name,  knew  well  that  their  greasy  pockets  were  lined 
with  gold.  He  sent  them  a  huge  chest,  bound  with 
iron,  and  the  message  that  they  must  not  open  the 
coffer  unless  he  were  killed  and  could  not  repay  the 
loan.  '  This  chest  contains  treasure,'  he  said,  '  than 
which  I  am  made  of  nothing  more  precious.'  Then 
the  two  Jews  were  content,  and  they  sent  him  back 

197 


THE    SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

much  gold,  and  he  went  forth  to  battle,  conquering 
from  the  Moors,  Valencia,  and  returning  victorious, 
singing, 

*  Valencia,  Valencia, 
Noble  city  of  renown, 
Once  the  Moor  he  was  thy  master, 
Now  thou  art  a  Christian  town.' 

"  From  the  treasures  taken  from  the  Valencianos, 
El  Cid  Campeador  paid  Rachel  and  Vidal,  as  we  say, 
'taking  from  Pedro  to  pay  Pablo.'  But  that  was  no  sin, 
for  it  was  in  the  fortunes  of  war ;  and  both  the  Valen- 
cianos and  the  Jews  were  unbelieving  dogs,  and  one 
perhaps  need  not  pay  debts  to  unbelievers,  what  think 
you,  senora?  El  Cid  paid  to  the  last  peseta,  but  the 
Jews  begged  him  to  let  them  see  within  his  chest, 
which  according  to  contract  they  had  not  opened. 
And  El  Cid  opened  it,  and  lo!  it  was  full  of  sand. 
The  Jews  reviled  him,  but  El  Cid  only  laughed. 

"  But,  senora,  if  I  tell  you  more  tales  to-day,  there 
will  be  black  looks  all  along  my  way  that  the  milk  is 
late.  'Adios!" 

And  Gil  sauntered  down  the  street,  relighting  his 
neglected  cigarito,  and  turning  aside  with  light  word 
and  merry  jest  the  invectives  of  housewives  whose 
puddings  had  suffered  from  his  garrulity. 

Spanish  folk  tales  always  possess  the  absorbing 
element  of  the  dramatic,  whether  they  tell  of  Moorish 
beauties  in  the  exquisite  halls  of  the  Alhambra,  or 

198 


s? 

3 


"  I  promised  you  one  prisoner.      Behold !  I  bring  two  ! 


FOLK    LORE    AND    PROVERBS 

in  rose-scented  gardens  like  Linderaya  the  Fair,  or 
the  miraculous  doings  of  Santiago,  appearing  upon 
his  white  charger  to  save  the  day  for  Spain  when  the 
Christian  knights  were  hard  pressed  by  the  Moslem 
foe.  They  also  blend  together  legend  and  history  to 
such  an  extent  that  it  is  often  difficult  to  separate 
truth  from  fancy. 

Some  of  the  most  interesting  stories  are  those  con- 
nected with  the  Moors,  and  these  cluster  around  the 
Alhambra,  ever  the  place  of  delights  to  Moorish 
hearts. 

Still  rise  the  red  towers  of  the  palace  above  Gra- 
nada, stately  and  beautiful  as  when  the  Moors  held  it 
in  their  keeping.  Fairest  of  all  things  in  this  palace 
of  delights  is  the  Hall  of  the  Abencerrages,  where  the 
wicked  king,  Muley  Hassan,  father  of  Boabdil,  mur- 
dered all  but  one  of  .the  noble  family.  One  escaped 
and  he  was  permitted  to  live,  upon  the  conditions  that 
he  stay  away  from  the  court,  and  that  if  sons  came 
to  him  they  should  be  raised  away  from  home. 

Abendaraez  was  the  only  son  of  the  Abencerrage, 
and  he  was  sent  to  the  castle  of  Certama  to  be  cared 
for  by  a  friend  of  his  father.  Here  he  lived  peace- 
fully, brought  up  with  the  Alcaide's  daughter  as  her 
brother,  but  when  he  grew  to  be  a  man  he  discovered 
that  she  was  not  his  sister,  and  he  loved  her. 

She  returned  his  love;  but  fearing  her  father's 
wrath,  the  lovers  married  secretly.  The  Alcaide, 

199 


THE    SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

however,  suspected  them  and  sent  Abendaraez  away, 
and  they  were  separated,  vowing  eternal  constancy. 

One  day  Xarissa  sent  word  to  her  lover  that  her 
father  would  be  away  from  the  castle  at  a  certain 
time,  and  that  he  should  hasten  to  her.  Alas !  Aben- 
daraez was  captured  en  route  by  a  Christian  knight, 
Rodrigo  de  Narvaez,  Alcaide  de  Antequerra.  To 
him  he  told  his  story,  and  the  gallant  Don,  to  whom, 
of  course,  the  romance  of  the  situation  appealed,  gave 
his  captive  permission  to  go  and  keep  tryst  with  the 
lady  of  his  heart,  provided  that  he  would  return  at 
the  end  of  two  weeks. 

The  days  passed.    Don  Rodrigo's  comrades  jeered 

at  him.     '  You  have  put  faith  in  a  Moor!  "  they  cried. 

'  Think  not  that  you  will  ever  see  his  face  again!  " 

"  I  shall  see  it,"  retorted  the  knight.     "  Wait  and 

see!" 

It  was  the  evening  of  the  fourteenth  day.  The 
sun  was  sinking  in  the  west,  gilding  to  golden 
glory  the  turrets  and  towers  of  Antequerra.  A 
horse's  hoofs  beat  upon  the  stone-flagged  pavement, 
and  lo!  Abendaraez  rode,  brandishing  his  weapon, 
a  gallant  figure  in  his  Moorish  garb.  With  him 
was  a  page,  fair  and  slight,  and  as  he  saw  Don 
Rodrigo,  the  Moor  cried  : 

"  Behold,  Alcaide,  how  an  Abencerrage  keeps  his 
word!  I  promised  you  a  captive.  See!  I  bring  you 
two ;  for  this,  my  wife,  has  escaped  and  comes  to  share 

200 


FOLK    LORE    AND    PROVERBS 

my  captivity  with  me.  I  beg  you  receive  us  kindly, 
for  I  trust  my  life  and  honor  to  your  hands." 

Don  Rodrigo  received  him  well.  The  page  he 
straightway  delivered  into  the  hands  of  his  own  wife, 
who  attired  her  in  woman's  garments,  in  which  she 
was  so  beautiful  that  all  men  gazed  and  wondered. 

"  It  will  be  well,  my  lord,"  said  the  wife  of  the 
Alcaide,  "  to  give  these  two  young  lovers  a  castle  for 
themselves,  for  I  greatly  fear  the  eyes  of  Xarissa 
would  prove  as  torches  of  fire  in  your  city."  '  This 
she  said  because  she  herself  was  no  longer  young,  and 
being  very  pious  had  great  regard  for  the  soul  of  her 
husband,"  so  says  the  old  chronicle.  "  And  Don  Rod- 
rigo, at  times  finding  it  wise  to  do  the  things  his  wife 
said,  gave  to  the  lovers  the  castle  of  Alora ;  but  there- 
after, being  forgiven  of  the  father  of  Xarissa,  they 
were  taken  to  the  court  and  dwelt  there  happily.  And 
the  wife  of  Don  Rodrigo  was  well  pleased." 

Much  of  the  folk  lore  of  Spain  is  religious  in  tone, 
bordering  upon  superstition.  For  example,  the  peas- 
ants of  the  north  say  that  you  must  never  bang  a  door 
or  kick  a  stone  out  of  the  way,  for  either  may  contain 
a  soul  not  yet  released  from  purgatory.  If  you  see 
such  a  soul,  you  will  die  within  a  year. 

Nature  plays  no  small  part  in  the  folk  lore,  and 
popular  ideas  upon  natural  phenomena,  when  sifted 
out,  contain  many  interesting  stories. 

The  Milky  Way,  so  say  the  peasants  around  Com- 

201 


THE    SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

postella,  drifting  white  and  beautiful  across  the 
Heavens,  is  the  path  to  Santiago's  shrine,  trodden 
nightly  by  the  spectres  of  those  who  did  not  make 
the  pilgrimage  to  his  sepulchre  while  they  were  upon 
the  earth,  which  all  good  Spaniards  should  do. 

In  Andalucia,  lucky  is  the  house  under  the  eaves 
of  which  the  swallows  build  their  nests.  Petronilla  is 
a  beloved  guest,  because,  as  the  old  rhyme  says, 

"  When  Christ  the  Lord  was  crowned  with  woe 
And  hung  midst  taunt  and  scorn, 
The  swallows  flew  straight  to  His  Cross 
And  plucked  away  the  thorn." 

All  evergreen  trees  are  lucky  trees.  They  are  al- 
lowed to  bear  green  leaves  all  the  year  around  because 
an  evergreen  tree  shaded  Our  Lady  as  she  rested  to 
nurse  Our  Lord,  upon  the  wearisome  flight  into 
Egypt. 

The  snake,  another  moral  bit  of  folk  lore  tells  us, 
was  once  able  to  walk  upright,  and  after  its  mar- 
vellously successful  tea  party  in  the  Garden  of  Eden, 
when  it  served  tutti  frutti  to  its  feminine  guest,  it 
strutted  about,  fairly  swelling  with  pride.  It  chanced 
in  its  rambles  upon  the  Holy  Family  en  route  for 
Egypt,  and  in  its  insolence  attempted  to  bite  the 
Holy  Child.  But  San  Jose  arose  in  wrath  and  smote 
it  with  his  lily  staff,  and  bade  it  henceforth  crawl 
upon  the  ground,  and  never  dare  to  rise  up  again  for 
its  presumption. 


FOLK    LORE    AND    PROVERBS 

Someone  has  aptly  said  that  adages  and  saws  form 
an  important  branch  of  folk  lore,  and  certainly  their 
proverbs  are  among  the  most  interesting  sayings  of 
the  people  of  any  nation.  The  quick-witted  Span- 
iards have  clever  proverbs  in  abundance,  the  same 
ones  being  in  use  to-day  as  were  in  the  days  of  Don 
Quixote.  So  many  of  these  proverbs  are  about 
women  that  one  readily  sees  the  gallant  Spaniard's 
interest  in  the  sex,  albeit  many  of  the  opinions  voiced 
are  unflattering  in  character.  Still,  any  genuine  bit 
of  femininity  would  rather  be  noticed  unfavorably 
than  not  noticed  at  all,  and  some  of  these  proverbs  are 
quaint  in  the  extreme. 

"  A  woman's  counsel  is  not  much,  but  he  that  de- 
spises it  is  a  fool." 

"  A  handsome  woman  is  either  silly  or  vain." 

*  The  ugliest  woman  is  the  best  housewife." 

'  Tell  a  woman  she  is  pretty,  and  you  turn  her 
head." 

"  A  well  dressed  woman  draws  her  husband  from 
another's  door." 

'  If  you  want  a  wife,  choose  her  on  Saturday,  not 
on  Sunday." 

:<  He  that  marries  a  widow  with  three  children 
marries  four  thieves." 

"  A  woman's  tears  and  a  dog's  limp  are  not  always 
real." 

'  When  a  good  offer  comes  for  a  daughter,  don't 

203 


THE    SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

wait  till  her  father  returns  from  market  "  (lest  it  slip 

by). 

"  Beware  of  a  bad  woman,  but  put  no  trust  in  a 
good  one." 

"  Women,  wind,  and  fortune  soon  change." 

But  the  cynicism  of  Spanish  proverbs  is  not  con- 
fined to  those  of  unmistakably  masculine  origin,  for 
they  have  numberless  proverbs  strictly  feminine  in 
their  point  of  view. 

"  What  sort  of  a  thing  is  marriage?  "  asks  a  Span- 
ish girl  of  her  mother. 

"  It  is  spinning,  bearing  children,  and  weeping,  my 
child,"  was  the  response. 

"  Observe  the  wife's  face  if  you  would  know  the 
husband's  character,"  says  an  old  Aragonese  screed; 
while  a  Valencian  saying  is,  "  Marry  a  widower.  The 
first  wife  is  a  broom,  the  second  a  lady." 

It  is  not,  however,  only  in  the  matter  of  the  mascu- 
line and  feminine  opinions  of  each  other  that  the 
Spaniard  waxes  cynical  in  proverb.  His  whole  tone 
of  mind  would  seem  to  be  that  of  a  keen  observer  of 
human  nature  who  smiles  rather  than  frowns  at  its 
foibles. 

"  God  made  us,  and  we  wonder  at  it,"  is  an  Anda- 
lucian  saying;  while  the  Madrilenos  say,  "  Of  what 
you  hear  of  your  neighbor's  goodness,  take  away  half." 

Other  proverbs  in  constant  use  among  the  lower 
classes  are: 

204 


FOLK    LORE    AND    PROVERBS 

"  Give  up  your  secret,  and  you  give  up  your 
freedom." 

"  To  hear,  to  see,  and  to  keep  still  are  three  difficult 
things  to  do." 

Many  of  their  proverbs  and  sayings  are  but  our 
own  folk  sayings  in  other  forms,  as  for  example, 
"  He  who  receives  a  bird  should  not  scrutinize  it," 
reminds  one  of  our  own  "  Look  not  a  gift  horse  in 
the  mouth."  "  Wherever  you  go,  do  as  you  see 
others  do,"  is  but  a  paraphrase  of  "  When  in  Rome 
do  as  the  Romans  do." 

Many  of  the  Spanish  proverbs  are  rural  in  char- 
acter and  have  about  them  a  charming  simplicity. 
The  Spanish  peasant  has  a  decided  penchant  for  call- 
ing a  spade  a  spade,  with  perfect  aptness;  and  he 
frequently  hits  the  nail  upon  the  head  with  marked 
exactness,  showing  himself  no  mean  student  of 
human  nature. 

"  There  is  no  need  for  excuses  for  the  bad  to  do 
wrong,"  says  the  sturdy  Basque;  while  the  Navarrais 
remarks  succinctly: 

"  If  you  keep  promises  with  other  promises,  they 
will  be  fulfilled  in  the  same  manner."  "  The  thief 
thinks  that  all  men  are  thieves,"  says  the  Andalucian; 
while  the  Castilian  says,  "  The  friend  who  won't  aid, 
and  the  knife  that  won't  cut,  are  of  small  consequence 
when  lost." 

Many  sayings  are  quaintly  indicative  of  the  temper 

205 


THE     SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

of  the  people.  A  bad  fellow  is  described  as  one  who 
"  would  pull  the  teeth  of  one  who  was  hanged,"  or 
one  who  is  "  bad  enough  to  take  the  pennies  from  a 
dead  man's  eyes."  This  last  refers  to  the  custom  of 
placing  pennies  upon  the  eyes  of  the  dead  to  keep 
them  closed,  lest  they  see  the  grief  of  those  they  left 
behind,  and  it  trouble  their  souls.  A  story  is  told  of 
a  little  girl  who  went  to  the  funeral  of  a  friend  and 
returned  home  in  great  excitement. 

"  Mother,"  she  cried,  "  they  must  be  grand  people. 
They  buried  him  with  a  little  dog  on  each  eye! " 

"A  little  dog,  indeed!"  exclaimed  an  American 
woman  present,  who  was  horror-stricken  and  added 
one  more  item  to  her  collection  of  terrible  data  about 
Spanish  cruelty.  She  was  greatly  surprised  to  learn 
later  that  the  little  dog  means  only  a  pero  chico,  the 
name  given  to  a  small  coin  bearing  the  lion  of  the 
Spanish  arms,  this  particular  specimen  looking  much 
more  like  a  little  dog  than  the  king  of  beasts. 

Straws  show  which  way  the  wind  blows,  and  pop- 
ular sayings  illustrate  many  points  of  character. 

Democracy  is  one  of  the  strongest  traits  of  the 
Spanish  race,  and  the  proverbs  of  Spain  show  this 
tendency  very  clearly.  "  Many  a  man  goes  to 
heaven  in  tow  breeches,"  say  the  people  of  Estrama- 
dura;  and  Andalucians  have  the  saying,  "  Sit  with 
your  master  at  table,  but  do  as  he  bids  you." 

The  Spaniard  is  democratic  even  as  regards  the 

206 


FOLK    LORE    AND    PROVERBS 

Church.  Deeply  venerating  its  regulations,  he  still 
says,  "  No  one  is  born  a  scholar,  and  even  cardinals 
are  made  of  men."  Even  more  seemingly  disrespect- 
ful are  the  haughty  Aragonese,  with  "  Since  I  am  born 
a  man,  I  may  one  day  be  Pope,"  or  the  proud  Cas- 
tilian,  "  My  corpse  will  take  six  feet  of  ground;  the 
Pope's  will  not  take  more." 

A  droll  little  tale  is  told  among  the  Madrilenos, 
whether  it  should  be  counted  as  sacred  or  profane 
history  is  an  open  question.  One  fine  day,  says  the 
story,  El  buen  Dios  arose  in  a  very  good  humor  and 
called  to  Him  the  patron  saints  of  all  the  countries, 
saying  to  them, 

"  I  will  confer  upon  each  of  you  a  favor  to-day. 
Choose,  then,  what  you  wish  for  your  favorite 
country  1" 

St.  George  spoke  first.  He  was  magnificent  in  ar- 
mor, glistening  and  bright,  and  he  said,  "  For  Merry 
England,  may  I  have  the  finest  navy  in  all  the 
world?" 

"  Certainly,"  said  the  Ruler  of  the  Sea,  and  St. 
George  made  way  for  St.  Louis.  With  a  deep  rev- 
erence St.  Louis  said,  "  May  I  have  for  my  beautiful 
France  the  bravest  army  that  ever  marched  to 
battle?" 

"  Perfectly,"  replied  El  Senor  Dios.  "  Your  boon 
is  granted."  Then  followed  one  saint  after  another. 
St.  Joseph  demanded  art  for  Italy;  St.  Andrew,  oats 

207 


THE     SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

for  Scotland ;  St.  Patrick,  that  Ireland  should  be  free 
from  poisonous  reptiles.  All  were  granted  their  de- 
sires, and  the  celestial  audience  was  about  to  break  up, 
when  there  was  heard  a  great  noise  of  clattering 
hoofs  and  Santiago  appeared  on  his  snow-white 
charger. 

"  Late  as  usual,"  commented  El  buen  Dios,  who 
began  to  be  tired,  yet  smiling  a  little.  "  Saint  of 
Manana,  what  do  you  want  for  Spain? " 

"  If  it  please  you,"  said  St.  James,  doffing  his 
birrete,  "  I  should  like  her  men  to  be  the  wittiest  of  all 
mankind." 

"  Granted,"  said  God. 

"  And,"  Santiago  hastened  to  add,  "  that  her  wo- 
men shall  be  the  most  beautiful  —  " 

"  Hum,  two  favors, —  well,  you  are  a  good  knight, 
Santiago,  I  will  grant  them,"  said  El  buen  Dios. 

Now  Santiago  always  wanted  all  he  could  get  for 
his  beloved  Spain,  so  he  spoke  yet  again.  "  I  should 
like  to  ask  also  for  the  best  government  in  the  world, 
if  I  may- 

1  Well,  you  may  not,"  cried  God  in  great  dis- 
pleasure. '  You  have  already  twice  what  the  others 
have.  Let  that  suffice,  and  to  punish  you  for  your 
greediness  I  tell  you  that  Spain  shall  never  have  any 
government  at  all! " 


208 


CHAPTER    XI 

ANDALUCIANS 

PEOPLE  are  very  fond  of  saying  "  the  Spaniard 
is  -  "so  and  so,  not  realizing  that  between  the 
people  of  the  different  provinces  in  Spain  there  is  as 
wide  a  dissimilarity  as  between  the  Yankee  and  the 
Creole.  The  North-country  Spaniard  is  as  Gothic 
in  his  traits  as  when  Pelayo  crouched,  beaten  but  not 
conquered,  in  the  mountain  fastnesses  of  the  Pyre- 
nees; while  the  Andalucian  is  Moorish  to  the  core. 
The  footprints  of  the  Moor  are  everywhere  in  the 
sunny  land  of  Andalucia.  We  see  them  in  the  won- 
derful arches  of  the  Cathedrals,  in  the  cool  shade  of 
the  patios,  in  the  sparkling  fountains,  even  in  the 
country  round  about ;  for  the  Moorish  love  for  water 
is  evinced  in  the  fertile  lands  of  Andalucia. 

The  Saracens  delighted  in  water.  Their  palaces 
sparkled  with  fountains,  sending  jets  of  silvery  spray 
high  into  the  air.  Their  gardens  bloomed  amidst 
desert  lands  like  the  rose,  and  throughout  the  southern 
part  of  Spain  their  elaborate  but  simple  system  of 
irrigation  was  almost  equal  in  its  perfection  to  rain 

209 


THE    SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

from  heaven.  It  was,  too,  so  difficult  to  compass  as 
to  seem  a  triumph  of  engineering.  Many  of  the  irri- 
gated regions  were  level,  and  each  little  rise  and  fall 
must  be  provided  for.  The  Moors  worked  con  amore, 
their  brains  aided  by  their  love  for  water  and  what  its 
presence  would  accomplish  in  the  way  of  fertility  and 
beauty,  and  their  laws  in  regard  to  irrigation  were 
stringent. 

The  water  used  came  from  mountain  rivers  and  was 
drawn  off  on  the  downward  course.  Rivers  thus 
drained  were  said  to  be  sang r ado  (bled),  and  there 
were  complete  systems  of  canals  and  water  courses  to 
distribute  the  water.  Each  system  consisted  of  a 
main  channel,  acequia,  with  smaller  channels  branch- 
ing from  it,  while  dams,  sluices,  water  wheels  and  res- 
ervoirs were  provided  to  regulate  the  supply.  The 
owner  of  each  piece  of  land  to  be  irrigated  had  the  right 
to  turn  on  the  water  for  a  certain  regulated  time,  a 
right  purchased  with  the  land.  In  order  to  secure  a 
just  distribution  of  water  so  that  each  might  get  his 
share,  the  work  of  the  engineer  was  followed  by  the 
legislator  and  the  judge.  Each  acquia,  therefore, 
had  its  own  sindico  and  junta  who  settled  all  disputes 
and  imposed  fines  for  breach  of  irrigation  laws.* 

Among  the  vineyards  of  Andalucia,  in  the  olive 
plantations  and  orange  groves  in  the  sun-lit  gardens 
of  the  South  are  deep  irrigation  channels  and  norias 

*  See  chapter  on  Customs. 
210 


ANDALUCIANS 

(water  wheels)  Oriental  in  style,  and  charming  feat- 
ures of  the  landscape.  These  norias  are  seen  in  the 
country  and  even  in  some  of  the  private  gardens, 
some  of  them  huge  affairs  and  quaint  as  the  wind- 
mills of  Holland.  They  are  simple  in  the  extreme, 
consisting  of  a  broad  wheel  whose  diameter  must  not 
be  less  than  the  height  to  which  the  water  is  to  be 
raised.  This  wheel  has  jars  or  cups  fixed  to  the  rim 
and  is  turned  by  a  mule.  The  revolution  of  the  wheel 
brings  the  empty  jars  under  the  water  so  that  they 
are  brought  up  full.  As  they  turn  over  the  top  they 
spill  the  water  into  the  ditch,  whence  it  flows  into  a 
reservoir  and  thence  into  the  necessary  channels. 

Old-fashioned  as  those  wheels  appear  in  these 
days  of  the  centrifugal  pump,  and  simple  as  is  their 
construction,  they  are  admirably  suited  to  Eastern 
countries  ;  and  had  the  Moorish  irrigation  been 
kept  up  there  would  not  now  be  the  vast  despo- 
blados,  or  waste  lands  scorched  by  the  sun,  where 
once  were  gardens  and  fruitful  farms  in  Andalucia. 
The  fruitfulness  of  this  region  is  beyond  com- 
pare, and  it  is  wonderful  how  readily  it  responds 
to  cultivation. 

In  Rota,  near  the  sea,  tomatoes  and  squashes  are 
raised  in  such  abundance  that  the  people  are  called 
"  squash  raisers  "  in  contempt,  though  they  are  proud 
of  the  name.  Here  the  soil  yields  from  three  to  four 
harvests  a  year,  but  it  is  scarcely  soil  at  all,  the  earth 


THE    SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

having  been  covered  by  the  sands  of  the  sea,  blown 
hither  and  yon  by  the  east  wind's  fury.  Nature's 
stinginess,  however,  is  combated  by  man's  industry. 
It  is  wonderful  to  see  the  peasants  at  work.  The 
irrigating  channel  is  here  superseded  by  wells,  sunk 
here  and  there,  and  the  water  from  them  is  carefully 
drawn  up  and  poured  over  the  precious  vegetables. 
The  sea-weed  is  converted  into  fertilizer  and  de- 
posited in  round  spaces  the  size  of  a  dinner  plate. 
In  each  of  these  spaces  the  peasant  plants  a  seed, 
watering  it  by  hand  from  a  cup  as  one  quenches  a 
baby's  thirst.  Daily  he  watches  these  children  of  his 
industry,  watering  them,  adding  more  compost,  stak- 
ing them  when  the  heavy  fruit  bears  them  down,  pro- 
tecting from  the  sun  weak  members  of  his  little 
family.  Stooped  and  bent  he  grows  in  his  labors, 
and  it  is  said  that  a  gardener  in  Rota  touches  every 
tomato  in  his  crop  at  least  fifty  times.  They  are  his 
children;  he  loves  them,  and  so  great  is  his  care  over 
them  that  he  talks  to  them  familiarly,  even  caressing 
the  leaves  and  tendrils  tenderly. 

-jC  pThe  Moorish  cleanliness  and  taste  are  impressed 
upon  the  Andalucians,  and  they  are,  apparently,  the 
cleanest  peasantry  in  the  world.  The  houses  are 
freshly  whitewashed,  often  by  the  women,  and  patios 
and  balconies  are  extraordinarily  clean.  Brick  pave- 
ments and  coarse  chairs  shine  with  cleanness,  and 
while  the  living-room  of  a  cottage  may  contain  noth- 


ANDALUCIANS 

ing  in  the  way  of  adornment  but  a  crucifix  and  a  col- 
ored picture  of  the  Blessed  Virgin,  and  no  furniture 
but  a  pallet,  chair,  charcoal  stove,  and  a  few  pots  and 
pans  on  the  little  deal  table,  the  doors  and  windows 
are  hung  with  snowy  curtains  looped  back  with  twisted 
cords,  and  flowers  blossom  everywhere.  They  trail 
down  the  tiny  balconies,  they  blossom  in  the  little  gar- 
dens; pinks,  roses,  violets,  wallflowers,  heliotrope, 
jasmine,  and  orange  flowers,  they  bloom  fairest  of  all 
from  a  fair  woman's  tresses. 

Very  different  are  these  neat  Andalucian  cottages 
from  the  ill-smelling  hovels  of  Galicia  or  the  tumble- 
down homes  of  the  Catalan,  yet  often  they  are  but 
the  homes  of  the  poorest,  —  a  charcoal  vender,  a 
ploughboy,  a  chestnut  pedler.  The  poverty  of  Anda- 
lucia  is  noticeable  even  with  the  cleanliness  and  cheer- 
ful spirit  of  the  people. 

They  are  not  afraid  of  work;  they  must  do  it  their 
own  way,  however,  with  laugh  and  jest  and  song. 
The  vintage  is  one  of  the  happiest  times  of  the  year 
to  an  Andalucian  and  looked  forward  to  by  all  the 
villagers.  In  September  the  grapes  hang  purpling 
on  the  vine,  the  wasps  settle  upon  them,  Indicating 
that  they  are  ripe,  and  bands  of  villagers  come  from 
distant  villages.  As  the  vintage  is  carefully  organ- 
ized so  that  its  results  may  be  accomplished  with  as 
little  labor  as  possible,  each  worker  is  assigned  to  his 
especial  task. 

213 


THE     SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

How  cheerfully  all  set  to  work!  There  is  a  huge 
cask  of  must  from  which  all  the  carters  may  refresh 
themselves  when  they  have  carried  in  the  coliero,  filled 
to  the  brim  with  mighty  bunches  of  grapes.  There  is 
also  plenty  of  wine  with  mutton  suet,  sardines  and 
bread  when  the  workers  are  hungry.  There  is  plenty 
of  laughter  and  song  and  good-natured  rivalry  and 
disputing  from  one  group  to  another,  while  higher 
and  higher  grow  the  clusters  in  the  baskets.  If  an 
Andalucian  sees  no  immediate  necessity  for  work, 
however,  he  can  idle  with  perfect  serenity.  If  he  is 
hungry,  what  matter?  He  can  lie  on  his  stomach  in 
the  grass,  and  in  Andalucia  the  sky  and  sun  are  food 
and  drink  and  fire.  He  will  sleep  for  hours,  his  head 
on  his  ragged  sleeve,  and  none  will  disturb  him,  since 
peace  broods  over  this  sunny  clime.  Knock  at 
the  door  of  an  Andalucian  house  and  one  will  cry 
"Who  comes?"  to  which  you  will  reply,  "Peace!" 
a  remnant  of  old  Moorish  days  when  war  knocked 
at  every  door,  and  all  who  came  must  be  tested  as 
friend  or  foe. 

The  handsome  houses  of  Andalucia  are  models  of 
comfort.  Many  of  the  city  houses  are  double,  each 
one,  however,  having  its  own  entrance,  which  leads  to 
the  patio,  about  which  are  the  family  apartments. 
Another  door  leads  to  the  inner  yards,  where  are  the 
stable,  coach  house,  kitchen,  mill,  wine-press,  gran- 
aries, oil  room,  the  buildings  for  the  casks  of  must, 

214 


s. 


A  Wayside  Shrine   (Alfred  de  Roulet) 


ANDALUCIANS 

alcohol,  brandy,  vinegar,  et  cetera.  This  second  part 
is  called  the  farmhouse  though  it  may  be  situated  in 
the  heart  of  the  city. 

It  is  no  small  work  to  oversee  an  estate  in  Anda- 
lucia,  and  the  master  has  his  hands  so  comfortably 
full  as  to  do  away  with  any  hint  of  ennui.  He  must 
make  calls,  inspect  the  field  work,  do  accounts  every 
night  with  his  overseer,  inspect  the  wine  vaults  and 
casks,  attend  to  decanting  the  wines,  buy  horses  and 
mules,  and  treat  with  dealers  who  come  to  bargain 
for  the  wines.  The  workmen  on  the  estate  are  for  the 
most  part  tractable  and  easily  managed.  They  re- 
quire little  and  work  hard.  They  are  picturesquely 
attired  in  the  remote  country  districts,  though  the 
charming  Andalucian  costumes  ,  which  make  one  feel 
as  if  walking  through  grand  opera;  have  passed  away 
from  the  cities.  In  the  mountain  regions,  however, 
are  still  seen  men  in  short  trousers,  gaiters  of  esparto 
grass,  snowy  shirt,  and  faja  and  wide-brimmed  som- 
brero. The  winter  is  hard  for  the  working  people, 
for  in  parts  of  the  province  the  winter  months,  though 
short,  are  bitterly  cold,  and  the  keen  air  sweeps  down 
from  the  sierras  into  the  cracks  and  corners  of  the 
cottages,  heated  only  by  the  puny  brazero.  Winter 
is  a  dark  night  but  "  Summer  is  God's  day "  in 
Andalucia. 

One  easily  knows  the  day  which  marks  Spring's 
passing,  for,  suddenly,  the  patio  is  transformed  into 

215 


THE    SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

a  drawing-room.  The  gayly  striped  awning  is  spread 
to  protect  from  the  sun's  too  ardent  rays,  furniture  is 
disposed  about  the  court,  and  the  family  congregate 
here  in  lazy  content  until  the  first  nip  of  frost  drives 
them  indoors  again. 

What  a  charming  spot  is  that  patio!  How  coolly 
the  fountain  splashes  in  the  centre!  How  pleasantly 
mingles  the  plash  of  the  waters  with  the  tinkle-tinkle 
of  the  guitars!  All  Spaniards  are  musical,  and  [it 
would  seem  that  all  Andalucians  are  born  playing. 
The  guitar  is  the  national  instrument  and  its  tinkle  is 
heard  morning,  noon,  and  night,  for,  as  the  proverb 
says,  "  The  poorest  musician  can  drive  rats  from  his 
home." 

How  charmingly  the  senoritas  sing  as  they  grace- 
fully finger  the  strings !  Travellers  in  Spain  always 
rave  over  the  beauty  of  Spanish  women,  and  perhaps 
Spain's  loveliest  daughters  are  in  Andalucia.  Of  the 
eight  thousand  tobacco- workers  in  Seville  there  are 
scarcely  a  hundred  who  are  not  striking  in  looks, 
with  their  ebon  locks,  their  flashing  black  eyes,  their 
shapely  forms  scarce  half  concealed  by  the  disarray 
of  their  clothing;  for  the  factories  are  so  hot  as  to 
make  it  necessary  for  the  workers  to  lay  aside  all  their 
clothing  but  a  loose  outer  garment. 

fAs  a  rule  Andalucian  women  are  tall,  straight  as 
a  desert  palm,  with  dark  eyes,  lustrous  and  sweet,  in 
their  jet  black  hair  a  crimson  rose  or  a  scarlet  pome- 

216 


ANDALUCIANS 

granate,  scarce  redder  than  the  full  lips  which  pout 
so  engagingly  and  break  into  lovely  smiles.  Many 
Andalucians,  however,  are  blue-eyed  and  almost  Celtic 
in  appearance;  indeed,  it  is  surprising  how  many 
blue-eyed  people  there  are  in  Spain,  and  there  is  some- 
thing about  the  blue  of  Andalucian  eyes,  something 
akin  to  the  heavenly  blue  of  Spanish  skies,  pure,  azure, 
and  serene. 

Maturing  early,  the  Andalucians  fade  quickly,  but 
there  is  about  them  always  an  enduring  charm.  They 
are  always  unaffected.  Whether  the  Dona  is  a 
daughter  of  the  people,  raising  her  nina  to  lay  flowers 
at  a  wayside  shrine,  or  a  child  of  an  hidalgo  who  can 
wear  the  golden  key  upon  his  hip,  old  and  young,  these 
women  of  Southern  Spain  are  simple,  natural,  un- 
affected, pleasant  and  courteous  to  all. 

The  gay  sprightliness  of  Andalucian  women  has 
given  rise  to  the  idea  that  they  are  light  in  character, 
but  a  Spanish  writer  contradicts  this  when  writing  of 
a  fair  Sevillian.  He  says,  "  She  is  sprightly  and  ar- 
dent but  has  no  vanity,  which  is  one,  if  not  the  chief, 
incentive  which  causes  women  to  fall.  The  fire  of  her 
soul  changes  after  marriage  to  tenderness  and  self- 
abnegation.  She  desires  to  be  loved  and  not  to  be 
adorned.  Luxury  does  not  in  Seville,  as  in  other 
places,  fascinate  the  fair  sex,  and  this  is  because  pov- 
erty is  not  felt  to  be  ridiculous,  for  the  mantilla  equal- 
izes all.  There  are  no  class  distinctions  felt;  a  young 

217 


THE    SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

girl,  proudest  by  birth  and  fortune,  meets  on  an  equal 
footing  many  persons  whose  parents  have  but  a  mod- 
est salary.  Then,  perhaps,  through  Arab  tradition, 
the  married  woman  always  lives  a  retired  life.  She 
does  not  dream  of  attending  freely  balls,  theatres,  and 
promenades,  as  in  the  great  capitals.  The  wife's  pride 
is  to  be  loved  by  her  husband.  They  say  there  is 
something  of  the  odalisque  about  her;  but  with  a 
woman  who  demands  nothing  but  that  her  husband 
shall  caress  her  very  tenderly  when  he  returns  home, 
life  is  very  easy  and  very  sweet." 

In  the  southern  houses  the  windows  are  always 
open.  One  catches  charming  glimpses  of  the  interior, 
and  this  intrusion  of  glance  is  taken  in  good  part  by 
the  inmates  who  seem  to  think,  sensibly  enough,  that 
if  they  did  not  wish  to  be  seen  they  should  close  the 
jalousies.  Valdes  tells  a  dainty  little  story  of  a  young 
girl  robed  in  white,  who  sat  at  a  piano  with  her  back 
to  the  window.  An  old  woman  stepped  up  and  called 
"  Senorita!  senorita!  "  Coming  to  the  grating  the 
young  girl  asked  sweetly,  "What  do  you  want?" 
"  Ah,  Senorita,"  replied  the  old  dame,  who  was  a 
courtier,  though  a  beggar,  "  Even  when  your  back  was 
turned  you  pleased  me,  and  I  wished  to  see  more  of 
you." 

"  Well,  now  that  you  have  seen  me  face  to  face, 
how  am  I  ? "  asked  the  maiden,  smiling  saucily ;  and 
the  old  dame  replied,  "  Like  a  rosebud,  senorita!  "  to 

218 


ANDALUCIANS 

which  the  senorita,  blushing  adorably,  replied,  "  Muy 
gracias,  senora.  Vaya  V.  con  Dios! "  *  and  the  old 
woman  went  on  her  way. 

Passing  by  these  open  doors  a  gay  senor  pauses  to 
hear  the  music  and  request  some  favorite  march,  with 
all  courtesy,  though  he  knows  not  the  young  performer 
at  all,  and  his  request  is  taken  in  good  part  since  a 
Spanish  girl  knows  that  a  Spaniard  could  never  mean 
to  be  impertinent  to  a  nice  girl,  and  she  smilingly  com- 
plies with  his  request. 

This  unaffectedness  belongs  to  men  as  well  as 
women,  and  Andalucian  men  are  scarcely  less  inter- 
esting than  their  women-kind.  Impetuous,  passion- 
ate, gay,  cheerful,  witty,  the  Andalucian,  be  he  prince 
or  peasant,  is  full  of  sang-froid.  Good  tempered  in 
the  main,  he  is  quick  with  the  knife  once  his  pride  is 
touched  or  his  jealousy  aroused,  for  he  is  a  good  lover 
and  a  good  hater.  Lively  and  audacious  to  a  degree, 
the  Andalucian  makes  much  of  charm,  which  elusive 
idea  he  expresses  by  sal  (salt)  and  "  Soy  muy  Sal- 
ada"  is  the  refrain  of  many  Andalucian  songs. 
Merry  as  sunshine,  caustic  as  shadow,  the  Andalucian 
pokes  fun  at  everything  and  jests  at  his  own  misfor- 
tunes. He  will  not,  however,  jest  at  yours.  He  is 
kindly  and  sympathetic,  generous  to  a  fault. 

The  Hibernian,  the  Gascon,  the  Athenian  of  Spain, 
he  is  gay  and  debonair,  light  and  free  as  the  air  he 

*  '*  Many  thanks,  madame,  go  with  God." 

219 


THE    SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

breathes.  His  eye  has  all  the  depth  of  the  Arabic, 
the  inscrutability  of  the  Oriental,  the  fierceness  of  the 
Levantine,  all  his  emotions  playing  kaleidoscopically 
within  its  depths,  now  liquid,  now  fierce,  now  com- 
manding. Calm  as  a  Moor's  in  repose,  the  Anda- 
lucian's  face  manifests  with  such  lightning  rapidity 
his  varying  emotions  that  one  fancies  it  changeable. 

Graceful  in  type,  the  men  are  not  tall,  but  have  a 
supple  swing  of  the  body  in  walking,  and  as  dancers 
they  are  ideal. 

The  character  of  the  men  is  ardent,  happy,  gen- 
erous, but  they  are  jealous  and  easily  aroused  to  wild 
rage.  This  is  aroused,  however,  only  in  love  affairs 
or  where  self-esteem  is  touched.  No  business  affair 
troubles  the  Andalucian.  Take  his  last  penny,  cheat 
him  out  of  his  eye-teeth,  and  he  will  laugh  and  think 
you  clever  perhaps ;  but  interfere  in  his  love  affairs  or 
ridicule  him,  and  your  skin  is  likely  to  have  more  open- 
ings than  those  provided  by  nature.  They  are,  how- 
ever, devoted  friends,  and  much  as  the  men  of  the 
lower  classes  dislike  servitude,  their  pride  making 
them  refuse  to  be  commanded  to  do  menial  tasks 
which  they  would  spring  to  perform  for  a  friend, 
they  make  the  best  family  servants  in  the  world,  abso- 
lutely honest,  devoting  themselves  entirely  to  their 
masters'  interests. 

Andalucia  has  given  to  Spain  most  of  her  greatest 
men,  from  the  Senecas  to  Emilio  Castelar.  "  It  was 

220 


ANDALUCIANS 

only  after  Columbus  went  to  Andalucia,  sefiora," 
said  a  Spanish  friend,  "  that  he  crossed  the  ocean.  It 
took  an  Andalucian  priest  to  understand  the  ex- 
plorer, and  it  took  the  brave,  reckless,  happy-go-lucky 
Andalucians  to  be  ready  to  cross  the  boundless  ocean 
with  a  man  whom  cautious  Leonese  and  wary  Ara- 
gonese  considered  insane." 

This  was  a  novel  view  of  the  case,  but  under  the 
spell  of  his  Andalucian  charm  we  were  not  prepared 
to  dispute  any  statements  he  might  make  regarding 
the  province  of  flowers  and  sunshine. 

Climatically  Andalucia  may  be  considered  nearer 
heaven  than  any  other  spot  on  earth.  Its  sun  warms, 
it  never  burns.  Its  cold  chills,  't  is  true,  but  't  is  so 
quickly  passed  one  scarce  notices  it,  and  there  is  always 
the  sun.  A  legend  says  that  every  saint  in  heaven 
was  provided  with  a  spot  over  which  to  rule,  all  save 
little  St.  Lucia,  and  she  wandered  over  the  earth  to 
find  to  her  taste  a  country  not  already  portioned  out 
to  some  saint  greater  than  she.  At  last  she  reached  a 
province  of  Santiago's  land,  a  region  so  full  of  flowers 
and  sunshine  and  soft  silvan  breezes  that  she  ex- 
claimed in  delight,  "  This  is  like  paradise,  I  must 
dwell  here!  " 

Then  a  voice  said  to  her  "  Anda,  Lucia!"  (Go 
there,  Lucia!)  and  happily  she  went,  saying,  "  Of  a 
truth  I  am  sure  that  Santiago  can  spare  me  this 
corner  of  his  great  land  of  Spain.  And  Santiago  said 


THE    SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

grimly,  "  You  are  more  than  welcome,  for  I  think 
I  shall  have  my  hands  quite  full  with  the  rest  of  my 
Spaniards!"  And  so,  ever  since  the  little  Saint 
found  this  land  of  song  and  flowers,  it  has  been  called 
for  her,  Andalucia. 


222 


CHAPTER   XII 

NORTHERN  TYPES 

TV  TORTHERN  types  in  Spain  vary  nearly  as  much 
-L  ^1  among  themselves  as  they  do  from  those  of  the 
South,  and  the  people  of  the  North  are  as  proud  of 
their  individual  corners  of  Spain  as  are  the  haughty 
Castilians  or  the  fiery  Andalucians.  This  is  true 
even  of  the  men  of  Galicia,  despised  of  all  Spain, 
since  the  mere  title  "  Gallego  "  is  almost  a  badge  of 
servitude,  as  from  Galicia  come  nearly  all  Spanish 
servants.  A  Castilian,  speaking  of  an  insult,  says, 
'  I  have  been  treated  as  if  I  were  a  Gallego  " ;  and 
recently  a  satirical  newspaper,  published  in  Madrid, 
opened  its  columns  with,  "  All  who  are  born  in  Spain 
are  Spaniards,  and  the  Gallegos  besides.'' 

This  rather  hostile  frame  of  mind  on  the  part  of 
their  brother  Spaniards  does  not  seem  to  trouble  the 
Gallegos  in  the  least.  They  are  of  Celtic  origin,  the 
Auvergnats  of  Spain,  fond  of  aguinaldos*  fonder  of 
their  mist-riven  province.  Though  leaving  home  to 
go  into  service  elsewhere,  the  Gallego  always  comes 

*  Money. 


THE     SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

back,  ill  with  a  deadly  nostalgia,  for  the  white  chestnut 
trees  which  shade  the  little  white- washed  hut  where 
Marusina  sits  spinning  busily,  awaiting  his  return. 

In  harvest  time,  as  with  the  Irish  in  England,  regu- 
lar hordes  of  Gallegos  swarm  into  the  plains  of  Cas- 
tile, sickle  in  hand,  to  reap  the  crop  for  the  Castilian 
landowner,  then  to  return  to  their  poor  homes.  Here 
they  occupy  themselves  in  cultivating  the  soil  and 
raising  cattle.  They  are  industrious  and  sober,  but 
the  brighter  side  of  their  nature  is  marred  by  jealousy, 
avarice,  ingratitude,  and  suspicion. 

The  dress  worn  in  Galicia  is  dark  but  picturesque. 
The  men's  short  jackets  are  of  light' brown  cloth; 
they  wear  knee  breeches  of  the  same  goods,  and  black 
cloth  gaiters.  The  waistcoat  is  of  the  same  sombre 
hue,  double-breasted,  but  enlivened  with  rows  of  brass 
buttons.  The  shoes  are  wooden  sabots  such  as  the 
French  peasants  wear,  and  the  hat  is  a  velvet  cap, 
turned  up  at  the  sides  and  not  unlike  those  worn  in 
France  in  the  days  of  Louis  XI.  The  women's  clothes 
are  equally  sombre  and  very  different  from  the  gaily 
striped  frocks  found  elsewhere  in  Spain,  as  for  ordi- 
nary wear  they  have  white  linen  mantillas  and  plain 
dark  frocks. 

Typical  of  Northern  Spain  is  the  stage  coach  with 
its  attendants.  A  hundred  years  ago,  if,  in  certain 
parts  of  Spain,  you  did  not  travel  in  your  own  private 
coach,  you  made  your  tour  in  that  interesting  country 


The  Gate  of  the  Mihrab,  Cordova 


G 

i 

C/2 

I 

I 


NORTHERN    TYPES 

in  an  ox  cart  or  astride  a  pack  mule,  over  the  most 
frightful  roads  which  it  is  possible  to  imagine. 

Florida  Blanca,  regarded  in  his  day  as  a  wonder- 
fully progressive  minister,  bent  his  energies  to  the 
development  of  stage  roads,  and  at  the  present  time  the 
pleasantest  jaunts  in  the  Peninsula  are  those  taken  in 
the  stage.  To  be  sure  one  has  to  be  as  strong  of  nerve 
as  for  diligence  travel  in  the  Alps.  The  stages  are 
generally  packed  to  overflowing,  the  pace  at  which  they 
are  driven  simply  terrific,  and  the  speed  of  the  six  or 
eight  horses  or  mules  is  accelerated  by  the  long  whip  of 
the  mayoral  (driver)  and  the  lash  of  his  tongue. 

One  never  hears  such  oaths  anywhere  in  the  world 
as  from  a  Spanish  stage  driver.  The  wildest  efforts 
of  "  our  army  in  Flanders  "  could  not  equal  the  sul- 
phurously  pyrotechnic  vocabulary  of  this  pleasant- 
faced  man,  yclept,  by  some  strange  mischance, 
"  angel."  He  would  not  appear  to  be  as  vicious  as 
his  language  implies.  In  ordinary  conversation  you 
will  find  him  quite  ready  to  be  a  good  comrade,  to  jest, 
to  tell  a  merry  tale.  He  seems  also,  despite  his  steady 
wielding  of  the  long-lashed  whip  and  his  dreadful 
imprecations,  to  be  well  enough  inclined  toward  his 
beasts;  and  finding  the  same  oaths  in  use  all  over 
Northern  Spain  among  the  stage  drivers,  one  con- 
cludes they  are  simply  a  fashion  of  speech,  the 
mayoral's  chatty,  colloquial  manner  of  conversing 
with  horseflesh. 

225 


THE    SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

The  mayoral  seems  to  guide  his  horses  with  almost 
no  effort,  saying,  with  a  light  turn  of  his  wrist  on  the 
lines,  and  in  the  pleasantest  of  voices,  "  To  the  right, 
you  vile  creatures,  anda!  anda!  Jesus-Maria!  turn 
to  the  right !  Will  you  ever  turn,  you  demons  of  slow- 
ness !  Ah !  Virgen  de  la  Purissima !  you  will  yet  come 
to  the  corrida!  anda!  anda!  " 

The  mayoraTs  able  assistant  is  the  zagal,  whose 
pleasing  duty  it  is  to  jump  down  from  the  coach  and 
whip  up  a  laggard  horse,  swear  at  him  or  throw  stones 
at  him,  a  heap  of  the  latter  being  piled  up  opportunely 
on  the  driver's  seat.  He  knows  the  names  of  all  the 
horses,  and  gives  a  running  commentary  upon  their 
varying  traits  of  character  as  he  curses  them:  "  Ah! 
thou  wicked  one !  Will  you  stop  to  eat  ?  Who  named 
you  Babiecca?  Truly  the  horse  of  El  Cid  was  not  a 
beast  of  laziness  like  you!  Juan  Negro,  may  the 
Devil  ride  thee  in  hell!  But  thou  art  mule,  not  horse! 
Anda!  anda!  thou  lazy  brute!  Thy  hair  is  as  thick 
as  the  thatch  of  a  roof,  but  I  will  make  it  curl  [as  the 
whip  cuts  ripples  through  the  long  coat  of  the  animal]  ! 
Corderito!  but  thou  art  evil !  Thy  mother  was  a  witch, 
thy  father  the  Devil!  Madre  de  Dios!  A  man  can 
kill  thee  and  then  not  get  thy  full  speed !  "  Which  last 
remark  he  does  not  seem  to  regard  as  either  satirical 
or  humorous,  but  makes  it  in  all  seriousness.  His  first 
assistant  in  the  business  of  stimulating  lazy  horseflesh 
is  the  delantero  or  post  boy,  a  gay  young  Lothario 

226 


NORTHERN    TYPES 

of  anywhere  from  twelve  to  eighteen  years  of  age. 
His  is  no  sinecure,  for  often  he  must  ride  his  intract- 
able leader  three  or  four  days.  He  rides  his  horse  or 
mule  and  flourishes  his  whip  with  the  grace  of  a 
Sancho  Panza.  For  this  he  is  paid  the  magnificent 
salary  of  ten  reales  (fifty  cents),  while  the  zagal  re- 
ceives fourteen  reales  (seventy  cents),  and  the  may- 
oral twenty  reales  (one  dollar),  excellent  wages  in 
Spain. 

There  is  a  story  told  in  Spain  of  a  bishop  travelling 
in  an  Aragonese  stage  to  keep  an  important  appoint- 
ment in  the  next  town. 

'  Why  do  you  use  such  language  to  your  poor 
beasts?  "  demanded  His  Lordship  of  the  mayoral. 
"  Do  you  not  know  that  to  speak  so  is  a  sin?  Why 
doit?" 

1  To  make  them  go,  my  lord,"  replied  the  mayoral, 
with  great  simplicity. 

"  But  they  will  go  without  being  blasphemed,"  ob- 
jected the  bishop. 

'  Think  not  so,  Senor  Bishop,"  replied  the  mayoral, 
stubborn  but  respectful. 

"  I  am  sure  they  will.  Come!  Try  it  and  you  will 
see.  Use  neither  the  whip  nor  curses,  I  command 
you!  "  said  the  bishop. 

The  mayoral  shrugged  his  shoulders  but  complied. 
There  was  a  cessation  of  curses  and  imprecations.  Be- 
hold, the  effect  on  the  mules  was  magical.  Their  fran- 


THE    SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

tic  gallop  slowed  to  a  trot,  that  in  turn  to  a  walk.  At 
length  they  stopped  altogether,  stock  still,  turned  their 
heads  and  looked  at  the  mayoral.  There  was  surprise 
and  wonder  in  their  mild-eyed  gaze,  as  if  they  said, 
"  This  is  out  of  all  precedent,  what  does  it  mean? 
What  will  happen  next?  " 

Nothing  happened  and  the  mules  looked  at  each 
other,  then  shook  themselves  until  all  the  bells  on  the 
harness  jangled  tunefully.  The  mayoral  looked  at 
the  bishop,  bland  and  benignant.  The  bishop  looked 
at  the  mules.  No  one  said  anything,  except  perhaps 
the  mules.  There  were  four  of  these ;  under  ordinary 
circumstances,  decent,  law-abiding  citizens,  albeit 
four-footed.  Indeed  the  mayoral  was  celebrated  as 
having  his  team  under  better  control  than  any  other 
in  the  province.  But  the  mule's  law  is  not  one  of  love. 
Kindergarten  training  does  not  appeal  to  him.  His 
individuality  cannot  be  left  unrestrained,  that  its  de- 
velopment be  not  interfered  with,  without  disastrous 
results.  On  this  particular  occasion  there  was  no  con- 
certed action  among  the  mules.  Each  displayed  a 
marked  individuality  in  dealing  with  a  novel  situa- 
tion. Number  One  brayed  long,  loud,  and  protest- 
ingly.  Number  Two  nipped  his  companion  in  the 
ribs.  Number  Three,  at  the  same  moment,  calmly 
and  reflectively  lay  down  in  the  harness,  as  Number 
Four  lashed  out  wildly  with  his  heels,  barely  missing 
the  bishop,  who  sat  on  the  front  seat  speechless,  pale, 

228 


NORTHERN    TYPES 

and  agitated.  But  the  mayoral  sat  in  stolid  quiet; 
such  scenes  were  not  new  to  him.  He  only  wondered 
idly  how  they  were  to  get  out  of  this  tiresome  situa- 
tion, but  his  respect  for  a  dignitary  of  the  Church 
restrained  him  from  asking.  The  mules  meanwhile, 
finding  that  nothing  in  the  way  of  just  retribution 
came  their  way,  decided  that  the  day  of  good  things 
was  theirs.  They  proceeded  forthwith  to  invert  the 
terms  of  the  divisor,  and  he  who  had  lain  down  to 
sleep  arose  to  kick ;  he  who  had  nipped  brayed  lustily ; 
the  kicker  took  a  siesta,  and  the  braying  brother  bit 
his  sleeping  comrade.  This  pleasing  state  of  affairs 
continued  for  three-quarters  of  an  hour,  during 
which  the  bishop's  face  turned  from  white  to  red,  and 
from  red  to  purple;  but  the  mayoral  was  tranquil. 
He  found  himself  wondering  how  long  the  bishop's 
piety  would  stand  the  strain,  but  of  this  he  said 
nothing. 

At  length,  having  exhausted  every  form  of  diab- 
lerie known  to  the  mule  mind,  the  animals  all  settled 
down  to  sleep,  quite  unmindful  of  the  harness,  and 
the  mayoral  settled  himself  comfortably  in  his  seat 
to  do  likewise.  His  somnolence  was  the  straw  which 
broke  the  bishop's  back.  The  sun  was  sinking  in  the 
west,  night  dews  were  rising,  and  the  air  was  chill. 
The  bishop  had  lunched  but  ill  at  a  wayside  inn,  and 
symptoms  said  that  dinner  was  wanting.  He  moved 
uneasily  upon  his  seat,  then  as  a  gentle  snore  came 

229 


THE     SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

from  the  mayoral  at  his  side,  his  ecclesiastical  patience 
flew  to  the  winds. 

"  Perdition  light  upon  those  mules !  Do  we  sit  here 
all  night?"  he  cried.  "  Por  armor  de  Dios,  senor, 
drive  on! " 

The  mayoral  sat  up  slowly,  rubbed  his  eyes,  and 
uncurled  the  lash  of  the  long  whip.  Then  he  flung  it 
out  in  the  air  with  a  splendid  whirl  till  it  cracked  like 
a  pistol  shot.  Simultaneously  his  curses  rang  out, 
curses  loud  and  deep,  of  a  marvellous  variety,  lurid 
and  sulphurous;  curses  new  and  old,  till  the  bishop 
stopped  his  ears  and  shut  his  eyes.  When,  however, 
he  opened  them  again  upon  a  star-lit  world,  four 
gentle  mules  trotted  swiftly  along  the  white  road 
toward  the  golden-tinted  west,  and  even  with  the 
mayoral3 s  curses  ringing  in  his  ecclesiastic  ears,  the 
good  bishop  smiled,  for  beyond  the  hills  lay  dinner. 

To  the  south  the  sierra  rises  like  a  great  wall;  to 
the  north  the  sea  gleams  blue  and  sparkling,  and 
between,  a  land  of  rich  valleys,  fair  plains,  and  wooded 
slopes,  lies  the  Province  of  the  Asturias,  proud  of  the 
fact  that  the  heir  to  the  throne  of  All  Spain  takes 
from  it  his  title.* 

Hardy  and  humble  are  the  Asturians,  many  of 
them  tall,  fair-haired,  and  blue-eyed,  as  in  the  days 
when  their  Gothic  ancestors  under  Pelayo  hid  in  the 

*  Since  1388,  the  oldest  son  of  the  King  of  Spain  has  been  called  the 
"Prince  of  the  Asturias." 

230 


NORTHERN    TYPES 

fastnesses  of  the  mountains  and  defeated  the  Moors, 
to  the  great  surprise  of  those  worthies,  who  had  ac- 
quired the  idea  that  they  were  all-conquering.  They 
met  with  an  unpleasant  awakening  at  Cavadonga, 
where  the  Gothic  chief,  assisted  by  Santiago  upon  his 
white  charger,  slaughtered  one  hundred  and  eighty- 
seven  thousand  of  their  turbaned  lordships. 

The  descendants  of  these  Goths  are  by  no  means 
sons  of  thunder.    They  are  simple  and  good-hearted,; 
honest    and    industrious,    loving   their    clean   white- 
washed cottages  and  their  tidy  arrios,  for  corn  and  rye 
grow  abundantly  in  the  fertile  valleys. 

They  work  hard  and  are  thrifty  and  saving,  but  it 
is  not  all  work  and  no  play  with  the  Asturians,  and 
they  are  by  no  means  dull  boys.  Their  romerias  are 
favorite  jaunts,  for  the  people  are  pious  to  a  degree, 
and  their  dances  are  as  beautiful  though  less  seductive 
than  the  famous  ones  of  Andalucia.  Of  their  dances 
the  danza  prima  is  joyous  enough  to  serve  as  a  model 
for  a  Delia  Robbia  bas  relief.  There  are  two  choirs, 
one  of  men,  the  other  of  women ;  and  while  the  female 
voices  chant  a  slow  and  melancholy  romance,  the  men 
join  hands  and  move  about  in  a  circle  in  a  stately, 
rythmic  dance,  both  unusual  and  beautiful.  It  re- 
minds one  of  the  old  Grecian  choral  dances  still  seen 
among  the  rural  Hellenes. 

These  harvest  dances  are  always  danced  at  the 
coida,  or  fruit  festival,  when  the  magnificent  apples 


THE    SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

of  the  region  are  gathered  in,  and  it  is  one  of  the  fairest 
sights  in  Spain  to  see  the  men  in  their  white  felt  caps, 
with  green  trimmings,  and  black  velvet  monteras,  and 
the  women  in  their  quaint  costumes  gliding  through 
the  mazes  of  the  muniera.* 

Asturian  women  have  always  been  peculiarly 
healthy,  of  fine  physique;  tall,  freshly  colored  and 
broad-beasted,  they  have  always  been  chosen  as  the 
favorite  wet  nurses  for  Spanish  noble  babies  whose 
mothers  did  not  consider  it  proper  to  nurse  their  own 
children.  There  was,  therefore,  very  great  displeas- 
ure expressed  in  the  province,  when  at  the  birth  of  the 
heir  Queen  Victoria  announced  her  intention  of  nurs- 
ing her  own  baby,  after  the  comfortable  English 
fashion.  Loud  were  the  protestations  against  such 
departure  from  time-honored  custom,  for  the  wet 
nurses  for  royal  babies  had  always  been  Asturians, 
and  every  woman  in  the  Asturias  felt  personally 
insulted. 

:<  To  think  that  one  of  us  is  not  good  enough  to 
nurse  her  baby!"  they  pouted.  "And  it  but  half 
Spanish!  We  have  none  but  Spanish  blood  in  our 
veins.  If  the  Prince  of  the  Asturias  is  not  nursed 
by  an  Asturiana,  nuestes  will  surely  snatch  him  away 
or  work  him  ill." 

The  nuestes  of  Asturian  folklore  are  evil  fairies, 
will-o'-the-wisps  who  float  over  marsh  and  mere, 

*  See  Chapter  on  "  Amusements." 


A  Young  Peasant  (Alfred  de   Roulet) 


A  Maragata  (Alfred  de  Roulet) 


NORTHERN    TYPES 

always  bringing  sorrow  or  death.  Xanas  on  the  other 
hand  are  dear  little  spirits  who  rise  by  night  from  the 
fountains  and  feast  upon  dew  in  cups  of  rose  petals, 
when  the  silver  stars  are  shining  like  diamonds  in  the 
heavens  and  the  golden  moon  bathes  the  woodlands  in 
radiant  light,  and  round  the  liar  the  children  of  men 
hover,  glancing  fearfully  at  the  window  pane  lest 
fairies  enter  there. 

The  people  of  the  Basque  provinces  are  among  the/7 
most  interesting  of  all  the  Northern  types.  Fair- 
haired,  blue-eyed,  tall,  perfectly  proportioned,  swift 
of  foot  and  muscular,  the  men  are  superb  sailors,  and 
boast  that  Elcano,  the  commander  of  Magellan's 
largest  ship,  Legaspia,  conqueror  of  the  Filipines; 
and  the  discoverers  of  Greenland,  Canada,  and  New- 
foundland were  all  Vascuenses.  As  fishermen  they 
are  unrivalled;  they  make  good  farmers  and  smiths, 
and  while  they  do  not  shine  in  art,  they  excel  both  in 
logic  and  mathematics.  In  character  they  are  re- 
markably high-minded,  truthful,  honest,  hospitable, 
haughty,  stern,  and  independent. 

The  women  are  among  the  handsomest  in  Spain, 
fair  as  Gothic  princesses,  often  red-haired,  and  their 
hair  is  always  magnificent  and  worn  in  massive  braids 
down  their  backs.  They  are  proud  as  Lucifer,  and 
chaste  as  Diana;  and  Piedad  of  Vergara,  working 
in  the  paper  mill  at  two  pesetas  a  day,  will  tell  you 
calmly  that  she  is  "  descended  from  Noah,  senor, 


THE    SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

as  are  all  my  people.  Every  Basque  is  born  goicoa 
(noble)." 

Piedad  is  poor  as  poverty,  but  armorial  bearings 
from  the  tenth  century  are  over  the  door  of  the  poor 
little  whitewashed  cottage  where  her  people  have 
dwelt  for  years.  Upon  the  anniversary  of  her 
mother's  death  Piedad  goes  to  the  village  church  to 
pray  for  that  dear  one,  bearing  a  basket  of  fruit, 
bread,  and  corn  as  a  "  tomb  offering,"  and  kneels 
beside  the  sculptured  sepulchre  of  one  of  her  ancestors 
upon  which  is  carved  an  almost  regal  escutcheon  with 
canting  arms. 

Piedad  is  pious  as  her  name,  but  she  can  dance  as 
if  alive  with  joy.  The  holiday  dances  of  the  Basques 
are  poems  in  motion,  original  in  character  and  antique 
in  origin.  They  are  accompanied  by  the  bagpipe, 
tamborine,  fife,  and  selbato,  a  Berber  instrument,  all 
in  a  harmonic  barbarism  of  sound. 

Those  who  are  accustomed  to  declaim  of  the  mis- 
erable condition  of  the  lower  classes  in  Spain  must 
surely  never  have  travelled  in  the  Basque  provinces. 
They  are  full  of  hills  and  vales  and  a  charming  variety 
of  scenery,  where  emerald  valleys  lie  embosomed  in 
wooded  slopes  clad  in  the  chestnut,  oak,  and  the  lance- 
like  pine.  The  mountain  regions  remind  one  of  Swit- 
zerland, and  the  white  cottages,  neat  and  comfortable, 
the  well  made  roads  and  pretty  little  villages  all  speak 
of  a  contented,  well-to-do  people.  They  speak  a  harsh 
and  unharmonious  language,  like  to  nothing  else  in  all 


NORTHERN    TYPES 

Spain,  and  there  is  no  note  of  discontent  in  their 
voices.  They  are  Vascongados,  what  more  can  be 
desired? 

The  Navarrese  of  the  hills  are  not  unlike  the 
Basques,  peaceful,  temperate,  and  honest;  but  they 
of  the  valleys  are  more  like  the  Aragonese  in  tem- 
perament, independent,  and  proud  of  their  fueros. 

In  haughty  Aragon  the  spirit  of  the  past  is  still 
rampant.  In  the  old  days,  so  jealous  were  the  people 
of  their  liberties,  that  a  magistrate,  or  justitia,  was 
named  by  them  to  watch  the  King  lest  he  transgress. 
A  law  in  the  fueros  stated  that  "  whenever  the  king 
should  infringe  the  fueros  any  other  might  be  elected 
in  his  stead,  even  a  pagan  " ;  and  this  is  the  more  re- 
markable since  the  Aragonese  are  notably  devoted  to 
the  Church. 

They  are  a  cold,  serious-minded  people,  daring 
and  calmly  obstinate.  They  are  as  little  like  the  fiery 
Andalucian  as  he  is  opposed  to  the  mercenary  Gal- 
legan.  The  Aragonese  makes  an  excellent  soldier, 
sportsman,  or  smuggler,  and  the  iron-crowned  Pyre- 
nees give  ample  opportunities  for  his  efforts  in  the 
last-named  avocation.  Lovers  of  genuine  sport 
should  hunt  in  the  Aragonese  Pyrenees,  for  the  woods 
abound  in  all  manner  of  game,  —  the  bear,  the  wolf, 
and  the  izard,  —  while  lovers  of  Izaak  Walton's  fa- 
vorite pastime  find  silvery  mountain  streams  filled 
with  speckled  trout  and  shimmering  salmon. 

Rural  Aragon  is  agricultural.  Corn,  barley,  the 

235 


THE    SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

olive,  and  the  vine  are  there  cultivated  successfully, 
and  recently  the  silkworm  has  been  introduced.  Min- 
ing is  carried  on  in  the  mountain  portion,  and  there 
are  rich  deposits  of  sulphur,  salt,  coal,  marble,  alum, 
jet,  copper,  silver,  and  lead. 

The  cities  are  of  little  interest  compared  to  those 
in  other  portions  of  Spain,  save  perhaps  Saragossa, 
famous  in  song  and  story.  The  Aragonese  are  very 
proud  of  this  city,  and  any  peasant  will  tell  you  of  its 
two  wonderful  cathedrals,  and  of  the  Virgen  del 
Pilar  preserved  upon  the  very  spot  where  she  ap- 
peared miraculously  to  Santiago. 

This  is  a  favorite  shrine  of  pilgrimage,  far  superior, 
the  Aragonese  will  tell  you,  to  Catalonian  Montser- 
rat  or  Galician  Compostella.  He  will  tell  you  also 
of  the  fair  maid  of  Saragossa,  immortalized  by  Byron, 
that  Agostina  who,  during  the  siege  of  Saragossa  in 
the  Peninsular  War,  snatched  the  lanyard  from  her 
dead  lover's  hand  as  he  fell  beside  his  gun,  and  took 
his  place  in  the  deadly  slaughter  of  the  enemy.  En- 
gracia,  Saragossan  woman  of  to-day,  in  her  unbecom- 
ing tight  bodice  and  short  skirt,  her  splendid  hair 
pushed  back  under  her  scarlet  mocado,  does  not  think 
well  of  the  fair  Agostina. 

"  She  was  brave,  yes,  but  it  is  not  given  to  women 
to  fight,"  she  said,  nodding  her  head  until  her  huge 
ear-rings  bobbed.  Engracia  made  lace  for  a  living, 
incidentally  keeping  wonderfully  clean  her  five  rooms 

236 


NORTHERN    TYPES 

in  the  apartment  house  where  she  dwelt,  and  watch- 
ing five  ravishing  little  Aragonese  youngsters  as  they 
toddled  around  the  patio.  Do  not  fancy  that  the 
modern  American  "  flat  "  has  yet  entered  Spain  to 
devastate  its  homes  and  deplete  its  population,  as  it 
has  done  in  this  country.  The  "  casa  de  vicinos  "  is 
quite  a  different  edifice.  It  is  a  cross  between  the 
apartment  house  and  the  city  tenement,  with  perhaps 
fewer  bad  features  than  either.  The  open  court 
affords  light  and  air,  and,  though  there  are  noise  and 
dirt,  since  city  life  among  the  poorest  surroundings 
does  not  insure  spotless  cleanliness  and  calm  serenity, 
there  are  also  good  humor  and  friendliness,  and 
glimpses  of  white  walls  and  mountain  slopes  and  the 
blue  Spanish  sky,  as  Engracia  sits  in  the  sunny  patio 
with  her  lace  pillow. 

"  Still  they  have  good  weapons  of  their  own,"  in- 
sinuated Engracia's  husband,  a  tall,  black-browed 
fellow,  very  handsome,  who  leaned  against  the  door- 
way, wearing  his  picturesque  clothes  with  easy  grace ; 
velvet  knee-breeches  with  filigree  buttons,  and  black 
velvet  waistcoat  with  the  vivid  scarlet  faja  (sash)  in 
which  he  carries  his  money,  cigaritos,  knife,  and  other 
necessaries. 

"  Weapons?  "  said  Engracia,  inquiringly.  '  What 
weapons  has  a  woman  good  enough  to  use  on  a  man?  " 

"  The  tongue  sometimes  is  as  sharp  as  a  knife,"  said 
Gil,  teasingly. 

237 


THE    SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

"  Would  you  say  that  of  me  and  remember  the 
proverb : 

"'El  mal  pajarillo 
La  lengua  tiene  por  cuchillo  ? ' " 

said  Engracia,  reproachfully. 

"  Never  of  thee,  but  perhaps  of  thy  mother,"  replied 
the  graceless  fellow.  Then,  to  avert  the  storm  of  which 
he  saw  signs,  "  I  think  I  hear  the  nino  from  his  cradle 
crying  for  thee,"  he  said. 

So  Engracia  put  down  her  pillow,  and  in  a  few  mo- 
ments her  voice  could  be  heard  singing  that  old  Aragon- 
ese  song,  the  "  Noche  Buena,"  sung  to  little  Aragonese 
since  time  immemorial,  a  sweet  and  gracious  lullaby : 

"La  Virgenf  se  fun  a  lavar 
Sus  manos  blancas  al  rio; 
El  sol  se  quedo  parado, 
La  mar  perdio  su  ruido. 

"Los  pastores  de  Belen 
Todos  juntos  van  por  lena, 
Para  calentar  al  nino 
Que  nacio  la  noche  buena. 

"San  Jose  era  carpentero 
Y  la  Virgen  sosturera 
Y  el  nino  labra  la  cruz 
Por  que  ha  de  morir  en  ella." 

*  "  It  is  the  odious  person  who  has  a  tongue  for  a  weapon." 

f  (To  the  stream  the  Virgin  Mother 
Hied,  her  fair  white  hands  to  lave; 
The  wondering  sun  stood  still  in  heaven, 
The  ocean  hushed  his  rolling  wave. 


NORTHERN    TYPES 

There  is  no  country  in  the  world  about  which  peo- 
ple are  so  fond  of  generalizing  as  Spain,  and  certainly 
no  country  about  which  generalizations  are  more  ab- 
surd. The  component  elements  of  Spanish  character 
are  so  many  and  so  diverse  that  the  different  prov- 
inces are  like  different  nations.  It  is  only  within  the 
last  fifty  years  that  anyone  could  be  found  to  acknowl- 
edge himself  a  Spaniard.  Before  that  it  was,  "  I  am 
Castilian,"  "  I  am  of  Andalucia,"  while  the  Basque 
even  went  so  far  as  to  declare,  "  I  am  Basque,  not 
Spaniard!  " 

To-day  the  people  of  Catalonia  would  say  the  same 
thing,  for  as  a  clever  writer  expresses  it,  "  There  is 
but  one  Catalonia,  and  Barcelona  is  its  prophet." 
Perhaps  there  are  no  greater  contrasts  to  be  found  in 
all  Spain,  land  of  contrasts,  than  with  the  people  of 
this  province,  bordered  by  the  Mediterranean  and  the 
Pyrenees.  Those  who  love  to  lay  character  to  sur- 
roundings would  trace  interesting  analogies  between 
the  extremes  of  Catalonian  character  and  the  ex- 
tremes of  the  landscape.  The  sparkling  blue  waters 


One  and  all  came  Bethlehem's  shepherds, 
Fuel-laden  from  the  height, 
Warmth  to  bring  the  Blessed  Nursling, 
Who  was  born  that  happy  night. 

A  carpenter  was  good  St.  Joseph, 
A  seamstress  poor  the  Mother  Maid, 
The  child  it  toiled  the  Cross  to  fashion 
On  which  our  ransom  should  be  paid.) 

239 


THE     SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

of  the  Mediterranean  form  the  southeastern  border 
of  the  triangle,  the  haughty,  snow-crowned  Pyrenees 
rise  heavenward  to  the  northwest,  and  the  character 
of  the  people  is  as  full  of  contrast  as  are  the  sea  and 
the  mountains.  They  are  industrious,  sober,  business- 
like and  enterprising,  hard  workers,  honest  and  pro- 
gressive, wrapped  up  in  trade,  and  absorbed  in 
whatever  will  advance  it.  Catalan  laces,  —  fairy 
frost-work  prisoned  in  thread,  —  linen,  paper,  soap, 
and  cotton,  —  these  and  kindred  industries  swarm 
over  the  Catalan  landscape,  their  devotees  working 
like  bees.  The  wines  of  this  province,  too,  are  famous, 
notably  the  Malvasia  of  Sitjis,  and  the  "  Benicarlo," 
which  last  is  sent  over  to  France  to  add  flavor  to  the 
lustreless  French  Piquette. 

It  would  seem  that  such  energetic  natures  would 
be  estimable,  notwithstanding  a  certain  Yankee-like 
closeness;  yet  their  especial  traits  carried  to  the  ex- 
treme seem  much  less  attractive  than  the  Andalucian 
insouciance. 

Students  of  human  nature  are  sometimes  fond  of 
the  dictum  that  vice  is  but  virtue  carried  to  excess, 
and  this  would  seem  to  be  the  case  with  the  Catalan 
vices.  The  Catalan's  enthusiasm  for  labor  resolves 
itself  into  a  frenzied  passion  for  work  which  gives 
him  no  rest,  his  religion  loses  itself  in  superstition, 
his  love  of  independence  lapses  into  that  distaste  for 
authority  which  has  brought  rebellion  and  anarchy 

240 


i 


Coronation  of  the  Virgin  (Velasquez) 


NORTHERN    TYPES 

to  their  fair  province.  The  political  vocabularies  of 
Catalonia  are  replete  with  high-sounding  catchwords 
arid  phrases,  and  most  of  the  anarchistic  imbroglios 
of  the  last  century  in  Spain  have  been  due  to  Catalan 
restlessness. 

There  is  scarcely  a  session  of  the  Cortes  which  is 
not  disturbed  by  the  ranting  of  Catalan  deputies,  and 
the  Government  is  constantly  receiving  "  representa- 
ciones"  which  present  verbosely  supposed  Cata- 
lonian  grievances.  <— ^ 

One  of  the  contradictions  of  Catalan  character  is 
that  while  the  Catalans  are  most  sordid  in  their  pur- 
suit of  money,  they  are  very  generous  and  spend 
their  fortunes  in  their  patronage  of  the  arts. 
Prosaic  as  seem  their  natures,  yet  their  poetry  is 
exquisitely  ethereal,  and  their  literature  contains 
much  that  is  beautiful  in  poetry  and  drama.  Such 
artists  as  Fortuny  and  Viladomat,  and  such  authors 
as  Balmes,  Bouarully,  Balaguer,  and  Saler,  are 
among  the  famous  Catalonians  boasted  of  by  the 
provincials,  who  look  down  upon  their  less  enterpris- 
ing neighbors  of  Castile  and  Aragon,  quite  as  much 
as  these  haughty  grandees  look  down  upon  the  rest 
of  Spain. 

Perhaps  the  quaintest  of  all  the  northern  types  of 
Spain  is  that  of  Andorra,  a  queer  little  republic  in 
the  Pyrenees,  independent  for  1100  years,  spared 
even  by  the  predatory  Napoleon  because  he  con- 


THE    SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

sidered  it  "  une  curiosite  politique"  Society  there 
is  ante- feudal.  Enfranchised  by  Charlemagne;  and 
granted  a  charter  by  Louis  le  Debonnaire;  in  819 
the  valley  was  placed  under  the  jurisdiction  of  the 
Bishop  of  Urgel  and  his  successors,  and  made  free, 
sovereign,  neutral,  and  independent  of  every  king- 
dom and  province;  under  the  joint  sovereignty  of 
the  Prince-Bishop  and  the  French  prefect  of  the 
Pyrenees. 

The  government  of  Andorra  consists  of  a  council 
of  twenty- four  members,  four  representatives  for  each 
of  the  six  communes  of  the  confederacy,  and  these  are 
elected  for  four  years  by  the  heads  of  families.  The 
council  elects  the  President  and  his  assistant  and 
these  are  called  the  First  Syndic  and  the  Second 
Syndic.  Judicial  power  is  vested  in  two  magistrates 
called  vegueres  and  a  civil  judge,  and  these  officials 
are  nominated  alternately  by  the  Prince-Bishop  and 
the  French  prefect  of  the  Department  of  the 
Pyrenees.  There  are  in  this  Utopia  no  written 
laws,  no  taxes,  no  debt,  and  little  crime.  There  are 
but  three  or  four  paid  officials,  and  all  expenses  of 
justice  are  paid  by  the  accuser  or  the  accused.  The 
actual  expenses  of  the  Government  are  paid  by  the 
rents  for  the  right  of  pasturage  or  wood-cutting  on 
communal  lands.  There  is  no  army,  but  one  man  in 
every  family  is  armed  and  may  be  called  out  in  an 
emergency. 


NORTHERN    TYPES 

Andorra  is  surrounded  on  three  sides  by  Spain, 
and  is  twenty-eight  miles  long  from  north  to  south, 
and  twenty  miles  broad  from  east  to  west.  Its  boun- 
daries are  exactly  the  same  as  they  were  in  819. 

Frowning  mountains  surround  the  country,  save 
on  the  south  where  flows  the  river  Valira;  and  there 
are  three  lovely  valleys,  well-watered  and  fertile, 
where  sheep,  goats,  cows,  and  horses  graze. 

Great  forests  of  pine  crown  the  hills,  and  these  are 
indicative  of  the  name,  for  the  word  Andorra  means 
a  "  place  thick  with  trees."  The  timber  is  cut  and 
floated  down  the  Valira  to  the  Segre,  thence  to  the 
Ebro.  Iron  is  found,  and  it  is  smelted  in  rude  forges. 
Coarse  cloth  and  linens  are  home-spun,  for  the  people 
are  industrious  and  ready  to  turn  their  hands  to  any 
work.  The  only  merchandise  reaching  Andorra 
comes  from  France  or  Spain,  and  there  is  a  consider- 
able amount  of  smuggling  constantly  going  on  across 
the  mountains;  and  within  the  recesses  of  the 
Pyrenees  are  caves  rich  with  treasures  as  were  the 
caverns  of  Aladdin's  genii  in  the  tales  of  old.  Ban- 
dits dwell  in  these  fastnesses  and  are  spoken  of  with 
horror  by  the  good  Andorrans. 

"Beware!"  the  mother  says  to  a  naughty  child, 
"  lest  thou  become  like  Juan  Bescoiz,  thy  name  a 
curse  to  all  good  people."  And  the  tale  of  Juan 
Bescoiz,  a  simple  one,  is  but  that  of  the  village  ne'er- 
do-well. 


THE    SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

Brawny,  strong,  cheerful,  Pedro  Bescoiz,  the  vil- 
lage blacksmith,  works  when  he  does  not  play.  He 
needs  not  to  work  with  feverish  activity,  for  there 
is  no  competition  in  Andorra.  The  three  forges 
which  the  republic  boasts  have  been  in  the  same 
families  for  generations.  It  is  a  distinction  to  be  a 
blacksmith  in  Andorra,  and  Pedro  feels  his  superior- 
ity. Had  not  his  father  before  him  plied  with  ham- 
mer and  tongs  on  anvil,  and  his  father  before  him? 
What  his  fathers  had  done  was  surely  good  enough 
for  himl  No  one  changes  from  his  father's  trade  in 
Andorra.  Pedro  has  been  an  elector,  that  is,  one 
selected  to  vote  for  the  viguier,  and  to  be  an  elector 
means  much  respectability  in  Andorra,  since  Andor- 
ran  custom  says,  "  an  elector  must  be  born  in 
Andorra,  the  head  of  a  family,  resident  of  a  parish, 
of  good  character,  and  of  sound  judgment."  Pedro 
had  served  his  turn  in  the  militia,  had  married  and 
settled  down,  without  so  much  as  a  desire  to  peep  at 
the  strange  world  which  lay  outside  his  quiet  valley. 

The  fetes  of  his  life  had  been  his  marriage  and 
the  baptisms  of  his  six  children.  He  is  contented 
and  happy,  saying,  "  I  have  the  end  of  all  society, 
the  good  will  of  each  for  each."  He  works  during 
the  week,  and  goes  to  mass  on  Sunday,  and  his  chil- 
dren attend  the  parish  schools,  for  education  is  com- 
pulsory in  Andorra.  Each  weekday  finds  Pedro 
at  his  forge,  and  if  he  does  not  remain  for  a  long 


NORTHERN    TYPES 

time,  and  finds  the  quiet  of  his  own  hearth-stone 
more  to  his  taste,  what  matter?  'T  is  but  a  stone's 
throw  to  his  home,  and  any  customer  at  the  dusky 
forge  can  be  seen  from  the  shadow  of  his  door  sill. 
There  he  sits  and  smokes,  more  often  now  than 
formerly,  for  his  children  are  growing  up  about  him, 
and  Pedro,  the  eldest,  is  at  the  forge,  steady,  indus- 
trious, cheerful,  like  his  father,  thinking  of  naught 
but  to  marry  and  settle  and  have  brave,  good,  strong 
children  to  follow  him  in  their  turn.  The  sisters  are 
straight  and  handsome,  pleasant  of  tongue  and 
temper,  with  all  likelihood  of  husbands  in  good  time. 
It  is  the  second  son  of  the  family  who  breaks  this 
pleasant  monotony.  He  is  a  wild  lad.  All  his 
mother's  tears,  his  father's  commands,  good  Padre 
Luis's  admonitions  fail  to  keep  him  from  the  moun- 
tains. Over  the  steepest  crags,  the  worst  roads  (the 
best  are  but  mule  paths),  here,  there,  everywhere, 
like  a  will-o'-the-wisp  he  flits.  He  brings  home  hares, 
birds,  wolfskins,  and  occasionally  even  the  skin  of  a 
bear  or  an  izard.  Handsome,  tall,  straight,  blue- 
eyed,  and  fair-haired,  all  the  girls  follow  him  with 
their  eyes,  but  the  older  people  shake  their  heads. 
"  He  is  too  much  in  the  mountains,"  old  men  say. 
"  He  is  better  off  at  home.  The  mountain  spirit  is 
one  of  evil,  and  it  lures  young  men  to  ill."  Juan 
only  laughs  at  warnings.  "  Surely  it  is  no  harm 
to  bring  home  food  and  furs  for  my  mother  and  sis- 

245 


THE    SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

ters,"  he  says  with  a  toss  of  his  blond  curls,  and  then 
he  strides  away  to  the  mountains  with  his  dog  and  gun. 

Alas,  poor  Juan!  had  it  been  only  to  his  mother 
and  sisters  that  he  brought  gifts  it  would  have  been 
well  for  him,  for  other  presents  he  made  proved  his 
undoing.  Furs  and  game  were  very  well,  but  when 
he  showered  fine  French  silks  and  laces  of  Barcelona 
upon  little  black-eyed  Miguela,  daughter  of  the  Syn- 
dic, people  whispered. 

'  Where  does  he  get  his  money  ?  He  himself  is 
scarce  worth  a  pero  chico" 

So  Juan  is  watched,  caught  smuggling,  and  though 
he  "  played  the  Andorran  "  *  to  perfection  it  was  of 
no  avail.  Convicted,  he  tries  to  escape,  but  succeeds 
only  in  killing  a  gendarme.  By  the  law  of  the  coun- 
try —  a  life  for  a  life  —  his  death  is  demanded,  and 
even  his  father  acquiesces  in  the  sentence.  Sorrow 
is  his  mother's  portion,  and  gloom  falls  upon  the 
whole  community. 

With  these  simple  people  nothing  is  more  precious 
than  human  life,  and  the  death  penalty  is  almost 
never  inflicted.  An  Andorran  can  never  be  executed 
by  a  fellow  countryman,  and  the  executioner  must 
be  brought  from  either  France  or  Spain.  He  is 
carefully  guarded  across  the  mountains  by  a  file  of 
soldiers,  and  is  taken  back  in  the  same  manner  when 
the  execution  is  over. 

*  A  Catalonian  expression  meaning  to  pretend  innocence. 
246 


NORTHERN    TYPES 

The  executioner  has  been  brought  from  Spain  to 
make  way  with  poor  Juan  and  the  boy  is  led  out  to 
the  village  square.  He  is  pale  but  calm.  He  has  said 
farewell  to  his  parents,  made  his  confession,  and  is 
ready  to  die.  Behind  him  rise  the  mountains,  and  in 
their  wooded  shades  lie  many  a  hiding-place,  and  life 
is  sweet!  His  eyes  rove  about  the  crowd  until  they 
rest  upon  the  face  of  Miguela.  Her  lips  form  one 
word,  'Escape!'  as  she  nods  her  head  toward  the 
mountains.  A  slight  gleam  of  hope  lights  his  eyes 
for  a  moment,  then  the  Syndic  speaks. 

"  Juan  Bescoiz,"  he  says  sternly.  *  You  are  about 
to  suffer  death,  because  you  have  brought  death  to 
your  fellow  man.  Have  you  anything  to  say? " 

Juan  removed  his  cap  and  the  sunshine  strikes 
upon  his  golden  curls,  as,  sturdily  patriotic,  he  cries, 
"Viva  el  ley  !"* 

"  Fire!  "  commands  the  Syndic. 

There  is  a  snap  as  only  the  cap  of  the  cartridge 
in  the  Spaniard's  rifle  explodes,  and  before  he  can 
reload,  or  before  the  onlookers  have  recovered  from 
their  astonishment,  Juan  has  fled  like  a  hare  toward 
the  mountains. 

'  The  Spaniard's  rifle  has  been  tampered  with/' 
cried  many  voices,  and  Miguela  turned  pale.  She 
need  not  fear.  The  executioner  dare  not  tell  that 
he  let  her  take  the  gun  the  night  before,  when  she 

*  "  Long  live  the  law ! " 

247 


THE    SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

had  coaxed  and  flattered  him,,  little  witch  that  she  is, 
and  no  one  will  know  that  it  was  her  hand  that 
removed  the  powder  from  the  cartridges. 

Juan  is  gone.  Henceforth  he  is  a  bandit.  For 
him  there  is  no  life  but  the  free,  wild,  hunted  life  of 
the  bandit  or  the  smuggler. 

And  thereafter  is  his  name  a  terror  to  the  little 
Andorrans,  whose  mothers  say  to  them, 

"  Beware!  Obey  thy  mother,  lest  Black  Juan  come 
from  the  mountain  and  get  thee,  or  thou  grow  up  to 
be  a  wicked  one  and  come  to  his  bad  end." 


248 


. 


CHAPTER   XIII 

EDUCATION 

ONE  hears  a  great  deal  about  the  deficiencies  of 
Spanish  education,  and  this  lack  is  attributed  to 
many  causes,  the  Inquisition,  the  greed  of  Span- 
ish rulers,  the  indolence  of  the  Spaniard  himself. 
Whether  he  is  less  educated  than  others  of  the  Latin 
race  is  an  open  question,  as  is  also  —  granted  the  fact 
of  his  lack  of  knowledge  —  whether  it  is  due  to  one  or 
any  of  the  above  causes. 

Historically  considered,  the  subject  of  education 
in  Spain  is  an  interesting  one.  A  recent  authority 
upon  the  subject  says  that  the  dawn  of  education  in 
Spain  coincided  with  the  Roman  conquest.  As  in 
many  of  the  Roman  colonies,  soldiers  of  the  empire 
married  native  women  and  their  children  learned 
Latin  at  home  as  well  as  in  the  schools.  With  their 
laws  the  Romans  imposed  their  speech  upon  the 
Spaniards,  and  these  in  turn  invaded  the  capital  of 
Latin  politics  and  letters.  Augustus  himself  made 
his  Spanish  freedman,  Gaius  Julius  Hyginus,  the 
chief  keeper  of  the  Palatine  Library.  Spanish  liter- 

249 


THE    SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

ary  aptitude  shows  in  the  profound  learning  of  the 
Senecas,  the  eloquence  of  Lucan,  the  clear  judg- 
ment and  wise  sententiousness  of  Quintilian,  or  the 
harsh  cynicism  and  broad  humor  of  Martial. 

All  these  display  in  embryo  the  characteristic 
points  of  the  strength  and  of  the  weakness  which 
were  to  be  developed  in  the  evolution  of  Spanish 
literature.  The  Spaniard  Balbus  was  the  first  "  bar- 
barian "  to  attain  the  honor  of  a  public  triumph, 
as  well  as  the  first  to  attain  the  Consulship;  the 
Spanish  Trajan  was  the  first  barbarian  to  become 
Emperor  of  Rome ;  and  the  victory  of  the  vanquished 
was  complete,  when  Hadrian,  a  Spaniard,  (himself 
an  exquisite  in  art  and  letters  and  the  author  of  the 
famous  verse, 

"Animula  vagula  blandula 
Hospes  comesque  corporis! 
Quae  mine  abibis  in  loca, 
Pallidula,  frigida  nudula 
Nee,  lit  soles,  dabis  jocos  ? "  ) 

became  Emperor  of  Rome  and  Master  of  the  World. 
According  to  Gibbon,  the  happiest  epoch  in  history 
was  the  period  which  elapsed  between  the  death  of 
Domitian  and  the  accession  of  Commodus;  and  the 
Spaniard,  claiming  Marcus  Aurelius  as  a  Cordobano, 
boasts  with  pardonable  pride,  that  of  these  eighty 
golden  years,  sixty  at  least  were  passed  under  the 
sway  of  Spanish  Caesars. 

250 


Memorial  Chapel  of  the  Marquis  de  Comillas 


I 


EDUCATION 

It  would  not  seem  from  this  record  that  the 
Spaniard  was  originally  averse  to  education  or  in- 
capable of  assimilating  it,  and  the  further  history 
through  the  Middle  Ages  lends  color  to  the  state- 
ment of  one  of  themselves  that  "  any  Spaniard  can  be 
a  savant;  if  he  is  a  dunce  it  is  because  he  likes 
dunces." 

Under  the  Visigoths,  not  a  literary  nation,  the 
Spaniard  still  made  strides  in  learning,  as  is  shown 
by  the  literature  of  the  day.  Juvencus,  who  lived  in 
330,  adapted  the  Gospels  to  Virgilian  hexameters. 
Prudentius  wrote  glowing  verses,  and  St.  Isidore's 
great  encyclopaedic  dictionary,  "  The  Etymologies," 
is  valuable  to  students  of  this  subject  because  from 
it  we  are  enabled  to  understand  the  scientific  learn- 
ing in  Spain  in  the  seventh  century.  These  were 
churchmen,  but  learning  was  by  no  means  confined 
to  their  class.  In  Galicia  Bishop  San  Martin  estab- 
lished a  school  known  all  over  Europe,  while  famous 
academies  were  founded  in  Catalonia,  Toledo,  Sara- 
gossa,  and  Seville;  indeed,  public  schools  of  three 
grades  were  found  all  over  the  Peninsula. 

During  the  period  of  Moslem  invasion  schools  and 
libraries  were  improved,  and  the  Moslem  univer- 
sities became  great  centres  of  learning.  Contrary  to 
the  generally  accepted  belief,  however,  the  Moors 
brought  with  them  to  Spain  neither  learning  nor 
civilization.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  at  this  time,  the 

251 


THE    SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

Moors  were  a  more  or  less  barbarous  people  just 
emerging  from  savagery.  They  were  fortunate, 
however,  in  the  possession  of  acute  and  receptive 
minds,  which  enabled  them  to  appreciate  and  to 
assimilate  rapidly  the  best  in  any  civilization  with 
which  they  came  in  contact,  resembling,  to  a  cer- 
tain extent  in  this  particular,  the  Japanese.  The 
so-called  Moorish  civilization  in  Spain  was  an  es- 
sentially Spanish  civilization,  modified  to  suit  the 
needs  and  peculiarities  of  the  Moorish,  or  Berber, 
invaders. 

As  early  as  the  days  of  Alphonso  the  Learned,  who 
struggled  to  bring  knowledge  to  his  people,  schools 
of  philosphy  were  founded  by  Averroes  and  Ramon 
Lull ;  and  by  the  end  of  his  reign,  the  Spanish  univer- 
sities rivalled  those  of  France  and  Italy. 

By  the  fourteenth  century,  learning  was  the  fash- 
ion in  Spain.  In  the  various  cathedral  schools  secular 
instruction  was  given  the  sons  of  great  personages, 
and  general  schools  were  established  in  many  places, 
notably  the  schools  of  Palencia,  as  well  as  those  of 
Salamanca,  Seville,  and  Alcala.  Here  men  were 
taught  science,  Greek,  Hebrew,  mathematics,  and 
astronomy,  and  by  the  end  of  the  fifteenth  century 
there  were  more  than  twelve  great  universities  in 
Spain.  Under  Queen  Isabella  and  the  wise  advice  of 
Cardinal  Ximenes,  the  universities  took  on  new  life, 
and  schools  and  colleges  sprang  up  everywhere, 

853 


EDUCATION 

Spanish  students  flocking  to  these  "  Pierian  springs." 
Printing  was  introduced,  and  books  became  plentiful. 
Then  came  the  period  of  the  colonies,  deadly  to  Span- 
ish literature.  All  Spain  went  mad  to  explore  the 
seas.  American  gold  glittered  in  the  eyes  of  every 
young  Spaniard.  There  were  great  authors,  Cer- 
vantes, Lope  de  Vega,  and  Calderon,  but  general 
education  was  on  the  wane.  There  followed  cen- 
turies of  war,  wars  of  succession,  of  foreign  invasion, 
colonial  wars,  and  the  army  became  the  great  school 
for  the  education  of  the  youth  of  the  nation.  Now 
that  her  colonies  are  no  more,  Spanish  life  and 
thought  are  infused  with  new  vigor,  and  intelligent 
people  of  both  sexes  are  giving  much  attention  to 
education. 

"  Is  it  of  the  education  you  inquire,  senora? "  said 
a  cultured  young  Spaniard  to  an  American  guest. 
"But  we  have  none!  It  was  but  yesterday  that  I 
read  how  the  missionaries  of  the  United  States  were 
educating  the  Filipinos  and  were  then  coming  to  Spain 
to  make  schools  for  us !  "  There  was  a  trace  of  bitter- 
ness in  the  tones  of  Don  Ramon. 

"  But,  my  son,  if  they  wait  to  come  until  they  have 
all  the  Filipinos  educated,  we  shall  have  the  hearts 
ill  with  hope  deferred,"  his  father  spoke,  stately  old 
Don  Rodrigo.  "  And  if  the  teachers  are  all  so  charm- 
ing as  this  one  who  has  taught  us  so  much,"  he  bowed 
low,  "we  should  be  glad  to  receive  them." 


THE    SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

"  Those  who  go  to  teach  the  Filipinos  should  learn 
to  sew,  for  I  have  heard  that  the  Igorrotes  have  much 
to  learn  in  the  way  of  needlework!  "  This  was  from 
dainty  little  Senorita  Raquel,  who  wore  her  French 
gowns  with  a  chic  which  was  the  envy  of  all  her 
friends.  Don  Ramon  laughed. 

'  Yesterday  I  saw  the  Senor  Jones,  the  American 
artist,  a  pleasant  fellow.  He  studies  at  the  gallery 
and  has  permission  to  copy  the  Velasquez  or  any  of 
the  old  masters.  He  is  painting  a  picture  of  his  own, 
an  historical  painting,  and  in  this  he  introduces  some 
Filipinos.  He  asked  me  where  in  the  library  he  could 
find  descriptions  of  the  Igorrote  costumes.  It  was 
not,  of  course,  polite  that  I  laughed,  but  yes,  senora, 
it  was  somewhat  difficult  not  to  do  so,"  and  the  young 
man's  laugh  rang  out  so  gayly  that  the  whole  family 
joined,  though  his  mother  shook  her  head  in  disap- 
proval of  his  impoliteness. 

"  Doubtless  customs  differ  in  different  countries," 
continued  Don  Rodrigo. 

"  But  I  have  travelled  somewhat  in  my  day,  and  to 
me  it  seems,  senora,  that  it  is  in  Spain  very  much  as  it 
is  in  other  continental  countries,  in  the  matter  of 
education. 

"  Education  in  Spain  generally  begins  at  home,  as 
Murillo  portrayed  it.  Many  of  our  little  maids 
learn  their  letters  at  their  mother's  knee,  for  despite 
the  foreign  idea  that  Spanish  women  do  nothing  but 

254 


EDUCATION 

embroider,  they  always  take  great  interest  in  their 
children. 

"  There  are  in  the  Peninsula  many  private  schools, 
kindergartens,  primary  schools,  convents,  and  day  and 
boarding  schools  conducted  by  the  religious  orders; 
but  a  boy  who  wishes  to  enter  a  profession  must  have 
a  certificate  from  a  Government  school.  The  Spanish 
Government  will  not  recognize  any  diploma  from 
A.B.  to  Ph.D.,  LL.D.,  M.D.,  or  C.E.,  which  is  not 
taken  in  a  Government  college.  Architects  and  sur- 
veyors are  such  by  'royal  decree,'  and  even  such  an 
humble  calling  as  foreman  mason  requires  the  passing 
of  a  Government  examination. 

"  This  Government  instruction,  however,  is  free  to 
all,  and  even  the  books  are  provided  for  poor  children 
in  the  lower  grades. 

"  Education  begins  in  the  Clarede  parvulos,  which 
is,  I  believe,  rather  like  your  kindergarten,  senora, 
only  our  children  learn  some  things  beside  play. 
They  learn  the  days  of  the  week,  month,  and  year,  the 
numerals  and  simple  sums,  also  proverbs,  stories  from 
Spanish  history,  and  prayers.  Then  they  pass  to  the 
Escuela  Primeria  to  learn  the  a  b  c.  Here  little  boys 
are  taught  to  read,  to  do  sums,  history,  and  elemen- 
tary geography,  and  are  then  passed  on  to  the  gram- 
mar school,  and  from  there  to  the  Escuela  Norma, 
which  prepares  the  scholar  for  the  Royal  College. 

"  In  this  are  studied  Latin,  Greek,  Universal  his- 

255 


THE    SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

tory,  literature,  mathematics,  and  the  Sciences,  and  all 
at  the  cost  of  a  matriculation  fee  of  five  dollars  a  year. 
It  all  depends  upon  the  boy,  senora,  at  what  age  he 
can  become  an  A.B.  If  he  enters  the  course  at  thir- 
teen, as  any  but  a  dunce  can  do,  he  may  have  his 
degree  at  seventeen,  and  then  be  ready  for  his  year 
of  Amplification,  in  which  he  studies  to  become  M.  A." 

6 '  It  is  not  so  easy  as  you  say,"  young  Don  Ramon 
exclaimed.  "  The  examinations  are  of  a  terrible  ex- 
actness. I  myself  am  not  altogether  a  dunce,  senora, 
but  I  found  myself  white  with  apprehension  when  I 
went  before  the  examining  board.  I  had  made  my 
studies  with  a  private  tutor,  but  my  examinations  must 
be  made  by  the  Government  before  I  could  even  enter 
a  school  of  law,  such  as  we  have  in  the  universities  at 
Seville,  Madrid,  Salamanca,  Barcelona,  and  other 
places.  For  the  girls,  of  course,  it  is  not  so  difficult." 

"  Indeed,  I  do  not  know!  "  Dona  Raquel  pouted 
her  pretty  lips,  "  The  Sisters  do  not  make  it  any  too 
easy.  Our  Sisters,  those  of  the  Order  of  the  Assump- 
tion, come,  many  of  them,  from  France,  and  they  are 
very  strict.  They  have  to  pass  examinations  them- 
selves every  year,  and  they  seem  to  think  we  should 
pass  them  just  as  well.  We  learned  French,  English, 
music,  painting,  and  sewing,  besides  our  regular  les- 
sons. We  were  worn  out,  and  still  the  nuns  were 
never  satisfied !  " 

*  Truly  you  look  worn  out!  "  Don  Ramon  teased. 

256 


EDUCATION 

"  There  never  was  a  moment  in  which  to  sing  '  Santa 
Rita,'  -  -  eh?  Sing  it  now,  that  we  may  know  if  your 
convent  education  will  pass  muster." 

So  Dona  Raquel,  blushing  prettily,  took  her  guitar 
and  sang  the  merry  ditty  which  mischievous  school 
girls  sing  in  Spain  asking  in  jest  that  Santa  Rita 
procure  for  them  a  good  husband. 

"Santa  Rita.     Santa  Rita! 
Cada  una  de  nosotros  necesita 
Para  uso  de  diario 
Un  marido  millionario 
AXunque  sea  un  animal; 
Si  tal,  si  tal, 
Si  tal,  si  tal, 
Un  marido  millionario, 
Ammque  sea  un  animal  *" 

It  was  a  significant  ending  to  the  conversation,  for 
the  thoughts  of  a  Spanish  girl  are  upon  marriage 
rather  than  the  higher  education  of  women. 

Spanish  girls  of  the  upper  classes  are  educated 
very  much  as  are  American  girls  who  go  to  fashion- 
able boarding  schools  and  return  home  to  go  into 
society.  Very  few  if  any  go  to  college,  though  the 
universities  are  open  to  women  as  freely  as  to  men. 

*   (Santa  Rita,  Santa  Rita, 
Send  us  now 
We  pray  thee  fervently 
A  millionaire  for  a  husband 
E'en  a  blockhead  though  he  be; 
Even  so,  even  so, 
Even  so,  even  so, 
A  millionaire  for  a  husband, 
E'en  a  blockhead  though  he  be.) 

257 


THE    SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

When  a  Spanish  woman  cares  for  the  ologies  she  may 
have  them,  indeed,  as  in  the  case  of  Emilia  Pardo 
Bazan  —  the  foremost  woman  novelist  in  Europe. 
Women  are  sometimes  more  highly  educated  and  have 
more  finely  developed  analytical  minds  than  men. 

The  prejudice  against  coeducation  is  very  great, 
and  men  instruct  men  and  women  teach  their  own 
sex.  In  rare  cases  artists  obtain  positions  as  instruc- 
tors in  young  ladies'  seminaries,  but  their  work  is 
always  under  the  supervision  of  Argus-eyed  female 
teachers. 

Of  the  middle  and  lower  classes  of  Spanish  women, 
few  have  any  education  if  one  considers  "  book  learn- 
ing "  the  test.  They  are  indolent  rather  than  ener- 
getic, and  care  little  about  the  intellectual  side  of  life, 
though  the  Senora  Bazan  declares  them  far  superior 
in  the  quality  of  their  intellect  to  the  men  of  the  same 
class. 

When  educated  at  all,  the  women  frequently  show 
marked  ability  along  lines  of  literary  criticism,  soci- 
ology, or,  like  Concepcion  Arenal,  they  may  be  at  one 
and  the  same  time  poets,  novelists,  jurists,  and  leaders 
in  many  reform  movements. 

Of  the  schools  for  girls  conducted  by  Sisters,  those 
under  the  control  of  the  Salesan,  the  Ursuline,  and  the 
Carmelite  nuns  and  the  Sisters  of  the  Assumption 
are  probably  the  best.  A  Spanish  army  officer  in 
speaking  of  these  schools  said  recently: 

258 


EDUCATION 

*  The  girls  obtain  in  reality  a  very  good  view  of 
things  as  well  as  some  slight  knowledge  of  boys' 
studies.  They  learn  the  languages,  singing,  —  not 
always  becoming  Pattis,  —  and  fine  needlework. 
They  do  not  learn  cooking  —  there  are  no  cooking 
schools  in  Spain  —  and  Spanish  men  never  have 
dyspepsia! 

"  A  girl  is  never  taught  to  cook  or  to  dance.  Both 
she  seems  to  know  in  some  mysterious  feminine  way. 
The  dancing  is  in  the  air;  it  is  learned  from  one  to 
another,  and  there  is  no  need  of  a  dancing  master  in 
Spain.  Yet  our  women  seem  happy  in  their  ways  of 
education  —  what  more  could  one  ask  for  them? " 

It  is  indicative  of  the  temper  of  the  Spanish  men 
that  all  they  ask  for  their  womankind  is  happiness, 
and  the  Spanish  women  seem  in  truth  to  be  peculiarly 
light-hearted  and  happy,  even  without  the  charms  of 
"  woman's  rights  "  in  a  country  where  suffrage  has 
never  been  made  an  issue. 

In  the  primary  grades  of  the  state  schools  the 
teachers  are  poorly  paid,  but  probably  not  more  so 
than  other  public  servants  of  similar  capabilities  and 
responsibilities  in  other  departments.  In  fact,  good 
salaries  in  the  lower  grades  of  public  service  are  very 
rare  under  any  Government. 

Recent  statistics  show  that  last  year  the  Spanish 
Government  spent  for  education  the  sum  of  45,122,300 
pesetas,  and  that  1,800,000  students  attended  27,000 

259 


THE     SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

public  schools,  and  that  350,000  pupils  were  divided 
among  the  7,000  private  schools.  Rules  as  to  sanitation, 
discipline,  and  the  qualifications  of  teachers  are  being 
rigidly  enforced  under  Government  inspectors,  and 
many  improvements  have  been  instituted  of  late, 
showing  that  the  march  of  events  is  toward  educa- 
tional progress  in  Spain. 

College  and  university  life  in  Spain  is  quite  as  de- 
lightful to  its  votaries  as  it  is  in  other  countries.  The 
Spanish  sense  of  humor  is  keen,  the  Spanish  tempera- 
ment always  friendly,  often  gay,  —  all  traits  which 
make  for  good  comradeship.  The  Spanish  sopho- 
more is  not  at  all  too  dignified  to  haze,  and  he  has 
frequently  been  known  to  keep  an  unfortunate  fresh- 
man up  all  night  rolling  sand  cigarettes  while  he  him- 
self sat  in  sophomoric  pride  and  smoked  the  genuine 
article.  In  all  boys'  schools  fencing,  swimming,  and 
riding  are  taught  by  non-commissioned  army  officers, 
but  in  the  colleges  less  time  is  given  to  athletics  and 
more  time  to  study  than  is  customary  in  American 
colleges.  This  may  perchance  account  for  the 
scholarly  attainments  of  such  graduates  as  become 
teachers. 

The  professors  of  the  Institutes  or  Royal  Colleges 
are  clean-cut  men  of  the  highest  cultivation,  and  it 
is  among  the  professors  of  these  State  schools  that  the 
so-called  "  academic  freedom "  is  seen  at  its  best. 
The  professors  are  well  paid,  and  receive  their  ap- 

260 


EDUCATION 

pointments  for  life  from  the  State.  As  the  schools 
are  not  endowed,  the  professors  are  not  restricted 
or  hampered  in  their  work  by  unnecessary  conditions 
imposed  by  various  benefactors.  As  an  instructor's 
standing  does  not  depend  upon  the  number  of  stu- 
dents which  he  can  attract  to  his  classes,  there  is  no 
inducement  for  him  to  adopt  sensational  methods  of 
advertising  himself.  Consequently  he  is  at  liberty  to 
go  about  his  class  work  in  a  dignified,  thorough,  and 
sensible  manner. 

In  both  the  secular  and  the  private  schools  the  in- 
struction is  of  a  very  high  character.  This  may  be 
explained  by  the  necessity  for  the  secular  teachers 
keeping  pace  with  those  of  the  religious  orders,  who 
are  among  the  keenest  men  in  Spanish  letters.  The 
men  who  teach  in  these  orders  are  picked  men.  In 
one  of  these  orders  it  takes  eleven  years  of  study 
before  the  student  can  even  be  ordained  to  the  priest- 
hood. To  become  a  D.D.,  —  this  is  not  a  compli- 
mentary degree  in  the  Catholic  Church, —  he  must 
study  four  years  more  and  present  to  a  jury  an  orig- 
inal thesis  upon  some  abstruse  subject  which  he  shall 
be  able  to  defend  publicly  against  any  member  of  his 
order  who  cares  to  challenge  his  work.  After  passing 
this  ordeal  and  winning  his  degree,  he  must  specialize 
in  some  particular  line  of  work  before  he  is  considered 
qualified  to  teach  it,  and  then  he  devotes  his  life  to  the 
particular  branch  he  has  selected. 

261 


THE    SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

Perhaps  the  worst  thing  which  could  happen  to 
education  in  Spain  would  be  the  passage  of  a  recently 
proposed  bill  to  force  all  schools  under  Government 
control.  Under  the  present  system  the  Government 
schools  must  be  kept  up  to  date  or  they  will  be  pat- 
ronized by  the  very  poor  only,  and  the  private  schools 
must  compete  successfully  with  the  Government  insti- 
tutions, furnishing  education  of  the  highest  quality, 
or  people  will  withdraw  their  patronage  in.  favor  of 
the  free  schools. 

It  must  be  confessed  that  the  discipline  in  these 
large  educational  institutions  is  calculated  to  instil 
into  the  young  habits  of  order,  neatness,  regularity, 
and  self-control.  The  students  are  never  pampered 
either  by  precept  or  example,  and  the  daily  routine, 
hard  in  its  outlines,  fits  them  for  the  rigors  of  life. 

A  day  in  the  life  of  a  boy  brought  up  between  the 
ages  of  seven  and  seventeen  in  such  a  school  has  been 
described  by  himself  as  follows: 

'  We  arise,  senora,  promptly  at  five  o'clock, 
though  with  an  unwillingness,  for  it  is  early  and  it  will 
be  long  until  breakfast  is  served.  After  dressing  we 
study  until  six  o'clock,  then  hear  mass,  and  take  our 
breakfast  of  coffee  and  a  roll.  At  seven-thirty  is  the 
first  recitation,  for  which  the  pupils  of  the  same  grade 
assemble  in  the  class  room,  and  there  the  professor 
comes  to  them.  Here  they  remain  until  half -past  ten, 
a  different  teacher  coming  every  half -hour.  At  10.30 

262 


H 
cr 
CD 


at 

H 


At  the  Gates  of  the  Alhambra 


EDUCATION 

we  have  our  luncheon,  —  bread,  meat,  and  water. 
Between  luncheon  and  dinner  is  a  study  time  which 
lasts  until  12.30,  at  which  time  we,  starving,  eat  every- 
thing that  we  can  lay  our  hands  on  of  the  dinner. 
There  is  soup,  puchero,  a  choice  of  two  kinds  of  meat, 
and  dessert.  We  drink  water,  though  wine  is  per- 
mitted, one  glass  at  a  meal,  to  those  who  wish  to  pay 
extra  for  it.  After  dinner  there  is  recreation  until 
two  o'clock,  when  we  study  until  three;  from  then 
until  five  come  lectures,  and  at  five  we  have  a  cup  of 
chocolate  and  a  slice  of  bread.  After  the  chocolate 
until  six  we  have  recreation,  or  out-door  gymnastics. 
At  six  o'clock  all  gather  together  to  recite  the  Rosary, 
and  from  6.30  to  8.30  we  study  again,  and  then  we 
joyfully  go  to  supper.  This  consists  of  chicken  soup, 
-  it  is  always  chicken  soup,  senora,  it  would  be,  per- 
haps, a  sacrilege  to  have  any  other  kind.  With 
the  soup  we  have  stew,  bread,  and  dessert.  This 
is  followed  by  night  prayers,  and  at  nine  o'clock 
we  retire. 

"  This  routine  is  followed  every  day,  except  for  the 
Thursday  half  holiday,  when  we  may  see  our  parents 
or  our  friends  in  the  parlor,  or  we  may  go  for  a  walk, 
three  of  us  together." 

Professional  education  presents  an  absorbing  study 
to  those  who  feel  the  least  interest  in  such  matters. 
The  old  manner  of  considering  only  law,  medicine, 
and  the  Church  as  professional  careers  has  passed, 

263 


THE    SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

.and  in  what  may  be  termed  the  scientific  professions 
considerable  improvement  has  been  made  in  Spain. 
Electrical  engineering  is  not  under  Government  con- 
trol ;  there  are  great  opportunities  for  advance- 
ment in  this  line,  and  many  capable  young  men  are 
entering  this  profession,  as  it  is  now  considered. 
All  the  Spanish  cities  and  large  towns,  and  many 
of  the  smaller  towns  and  villages,  are  now  lighted  with 
electricity,  while  electric  railways  and  power  plants 
are  springing  up  on  all  sides. 

Mechanical  and  civil  engineering,  on  the  contrary, 
are  under  Government  control,  and  are  strictly  super- 
vised. The  engineers  are  kept  up  to  the  mark  of  their 
profession  in  other  countries,  and  Galdos  lays  con- 
siderable stress  upon  the  difficulties  of  the  course.  He 
says,  in  describing  a  student  of  engineering: 

"  The  profession  he  had  chosen  was  not  easy  to 
enter,  as  you  will  see  from  the  following  list  of  studies 
which  the  State  obliged  him  to  master  in  order  to 
enter  the  school  of  engineering;  algebra,  arithmetic 
as  a  matter  of  course,  geometry,  trigonometry,  and 
analytics,  descriptive  geometry,  and  differential  cal- 
culus. In  addition,  French,  only  held  together  with 
pins,  English,  hurriedly  basted,  and  German,  whose 
letters  inspired  him  with  respect.  Then  there  was 
everlasting  drawing,  linear,  topographical  and  land- 
scape. After  that  came  the  '  little  course,'  so-called 
that  we  might  not  be  afraid  of  it,  with  integral  cal- 

264 


EDUCATION! 

culus,  theoretical  mechanics,  physics,  and  chemistry. 
During  the  year  of  the  '  little  course  '  we  had  no  more 
drawing,  but  in  the  following  year,  which  is  the  first 
of  the  course,  properly  speaking,  we  were  obliged, 
besides  going  deep  into  the  materials  of  construction, 
to  study  applied  mechanics,  geology,  cubic  mensu- 
ration, and  to  take  up  a  new  kind  of  mechanical 
drawing,  in  pen  and  wash." 

It  would  seem,  however,  that  of  all  the  professions 
in  Spain  that  of  engineer  offers  the  widest  possibili- 
ties and  the  pleasantest  opportunities  for  broadening 
the  horizon.  Spain  is  rapidly  entering  upon  an  era  of 
construction,  and  bridges,  railways,  and  trams  are 
building  on  every  hand.  It  will  not  be  long  before 
the  stages  with  their  picturesque  drivers,  their  gay 
mule  bells  and  gayer  mules  will  be  things  of  the  past. 
Already  in  Granada  a  tram  car  glides  up  the  hill 
toward  the  Alhambra,  and,  where  Inigo  de  Loyola 
centuries  ago,  toiled  on  foot  up  the  crags  of  Montser- 
rat,  a  cog-road  whistles  its  impertinences  to  the  pin- 
nacles of  the  Pyrenees. 

Very  interesting  are  some  of  the  experiences  of 
the  engineers  as  they  carry  their  railways  into  remote 
regions. 

Not  long  ago  a  group  of  young  Spanish  engineers 
were  engaged  in  the  construction  of  a  railway  in  a 
mountainous  portion  of  the  country,  when  a  message 
was  sent  to  the  local  chief  that  the  general  superin- 

265 


THE    SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

tendent  of  construction  was  coming  their  way  on  a 
tour  of  inspection. 

The  general  superintendent  was  an  irascible 
Scotchman,  McTavish  by  name.  He  was  noted  for 
the  excellent  quality  of  the  work  he  did,  and  the  cer- 
tainty that  he  would  demand  and  get  equally  good 
work  from  his  subordinates.  The  local  superintend- 
ent was,  of  couse,  sure  that  his  work  was  of  the  best, 
but  then,  it  was  always  well  to  see  that  dignitaries 
were  kept  in  good  humor.  The  chief  difficulty  in  the 
way  of  properly  entertaining  the  Senor  McTavish 
lay  in  the  fact  that  he  spoke  no  Spanish,  and  that  of 
the  engineers  only  the  local  chief  spoke  English  flu- 
ently. As  fate  would  have  it,  at  this  juncture  word 
was  brought  that  a  bridge  recently  erected  further 
down  the  line  was  causing  trouble,  and  the  chief  must 
come  at  once  and  investigate.  He  was  in  despair. 
"If  I  go,  McTavish  will  come  in  my  absence,  and 
who  will  entertain  him?"  he  growled.  "If  I  do  not 
go  he  will  come  by  the  other  route,  and  if  there  is 
anything  wrong  with  that  bridge — !  Besides, 
where  will  he  find  a  decent  place  to  sleep  in  this 
hole?"  Then  one  of  the  young  engineers  spoke 
up,  "Allow  Cisneros  to  entertain  him.  The  haci- 
enda of  his  aunt's  son-in-law  is  not  far  away, 
and  Cisneros  could  talk  to  the  evil  one  with  his 
eyes! " 

Cisneros,  a  handsome  and  rather  conceited  young 

266 


EDUCATION 

man  of  two-and-twenty,  bowed  low,  his  hand  on  his 
heart,  saying,  with  great  suavity  and  politeness: 

6  The  compliment  is  undeserved,  senor,  but  I 
place  myself  at  your  service.  My  English  is  per- 
haps not  altogether  bad,  and  my  French  has  been 
called  Parisian." 

It  was  the  best  arrangement  that  could  be  made, 
and  the  chief,  though  with  some  misgivings,  left  for 
his  bridge-inspection,  after  giving  orders  that  Cisne- 
ros  was  to  meet  the  Senor  McTavish  at  the  station, 
show  him  over  the  line,  talk  to  him  in  his  best  Eng- 
lish, give  him  the  best  wine  obtainable,  see  him  safely 
housed  at  night  and  off  in  the  morning,  not  to  let  him 
out  of  his  sight  except  when  the  man  had  retired  at 
night,  and  to  be  careful  not  to  enrage  him  unneces- 
sarily, as  he  had  a  fearful  temper.  Cisneros  accepted 
the  trust.  His  was  a  gay  self-confidence  that  laughed 
at  difficulties,  indeed  they  did  but  whet  his  appetite. 
When  the  chief  returned  next  day  his  first  questions 
were: 

*  Was  the  Senor  McTavish  here?  Where  is 
Cisneros? " 

"  He  was  here.  He  is  gone.  Cisneros  is  in  bed," 
was  the  reply. 

"  In  bed!  he  is  ill  then!  "  The  chief  was  astonished. 
"  What  has  happened?  " 

The  young  engineer  laughed.  "  I  will  tell  you," 
he  said,  and  laughed  again.  "  It  all  went  well  as  you 

267 


THE    SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

had  planned  until  the  night,  for  which  you  had  made 
no  arrangements,  senor.  We  met  the  Senor  Mc- 
Tavish  at  the  train.  He  descended,  a  big  man,  with  a 
head  of  hair  like  the  red  and  yellow  of  the  royal 
standard.  We  all  Stood  in  a  body  to  receive  him, 
Cisneros  at  the  head,  standing  very  straight,  heels 
together,  bowing  in  his  best  fashion,  and  saying,  '  A 
votre  service,  monsieur! '  Even  the  sang-froid  of  Cis- 
neros was  disturbed  by  the  hair  of  the  Senor  Mc- 
Tavish,  for  it  bore  down  upon  us  like  the  headlight  of 
an  engine.  But  he  was  agreeable.  He  looked  over 
everything,  and  the  eye  of  the  hawk  is  not  more  keen 
than  his,  and  though  he  said  nothing,  I  think  he  was 
not  displeased." 

"  He  was  not,  you  may  depend  upon  it,"  the  chief 
said.  "  Had  there  been  the  least  thing  he  did  not 
like,  you  may  be  sure  that  he  would  have  mentioned 
it.  Well,  what  else?  And  what  of  Cisneros?  Was 
the  strain  of  his  French  politeness  too  much  for 
him?" 

"  Cisneros  has  been  at  a  cock  fight,"  he  said.  "  And 
of  that  I  will  tell  you.  At  dinner  time  Cisneros  took 
the  Senor  Inspector  to  the  hacienda  of  his  aunt's  son- 
in-law,  and  there  we  dined,  and  not  so  ill.  The  family 
were  away,  and  the  cook  is  not  so  bad,  and  she  has 
an  ankle  as  well-turned  as  any  in  Madrid —  '  he 
paused  in  some  embarrassment,  and  the  chief  growled : 
"  And  did  the  Senor  Inspector  eat  the  ankle  of 

268 


EDUCATION 

the  cook  of  the  son-in-law  of  the  aunt  of  Cisneros? 
Go  on  with  your  story!  " 

"  After  supper  there  was  more  of  French  polite- 
ness from  Cisneros,"  said  the  young  engineer.  "  It 
was  a  sight  most  beautiful  to  see  him  bowing  with  one 
hand  on  his  heart,  heels  together,  a  smile  on  his  lips, 
all  the  French  he  knew  on  them  too,  wishing  the 
Senor  McTavish  sweet  dreams.  The  Senor  Inspec- 
tor regarded  him  curiously,  and  said  some  strange 
words  which  sounded  like  *  hootmon.9  It  must  have 
been  an  English  swearing,  though  of  them  I  have 
heard  many,  but  never  one  like  it.  Cisneros  answered 
him  that  the  house  was  his,  and  the  Senor  Inspector 
shook  his  head.  Cisneros  bowed  again;  he  bowed  so 
low  that  he  doubled  himself  up  like  a  muleteer's  knife. 
The  Senor  McTavish  muttered  something  to  himself. 
I  myself  do  not  speak  the  English,  but  he  said  some- 
thing of  '  bobben  jaccas?  and  when  he  bowed  himself 
it  was  as  if  his  joints  were  stiff  with  rust  and  creaked 
like  a  rusty  brake- shoe. 

6  Then  he  took  his  night  light  and  closed  the  door 
of  his  room.  Cisneros  sat  down  and  smoked  twelve 
cigaritos  and  drank  a  bottle  of  val  de  penas.  The 
rest  of  us  smoked  also  and  laughed  at  him. 

*  Your  English  is  perhaps  not  bad,"  I  said,  but  he 
scowled  at  me  and  demanded,  "  Who  gave  you  a 
candle  to  hold  at  this  funeral? " 

"  In  the  night  we  heard  strange  noises  coming  from 

269 


THE    SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

the  chamber  of  the  Sefior  McTavish,  but  no  one  went 
to  see  what  was  the  cause  of  them,  because  all  of  us 
were  sleepy  and  told  Cisneros  it  was  his  business. 
Cisneros  said  many  impolite  things,  among  others 
that  he  had  danced  attendance  on  the  red  head  of  el 
Senor  Diablo  all  day  and,  by  Santiago,  he  would  not 
do  it  all  night  too !  Then  he  turned  over  and  went  to 
sleep. 

'  When  morning  came  the  Sefior  McTavish  be- 
stirred himself  very  early.  I  heard  him  raging  around 
like  a  bull  before  the  corrida,  and  awoke  Cisneros. 
He  in  turn  called  the  cook  to  make  breakfast,  and  she 
cooked  a  puchero  fit  for  even  a  Scotchman.  Had 
His  Majesty  brought  his  English  Queen  to  dine,  it 
could  not  have  been  better.  At  last  out  came  the 
Senor  Inspector,  fully  dressed.  His  eyes  had  a  look 
of  wildness,  his  face  was  haggard,  and  he  seemed 
restless,  and  responded  very  curtly  to  the  '  buenos 
dias '  of  us  all.  We  sat  down  to  breakfast.  There 
was  coffee,  rolls,  oranges,  and  this  wonderful  puchero. 
I  leave  it  to  you  if  that  was  not  a  feast  for  any  moun- 
tain town,  yet  he  had  not  a  word  nor  a  smile  for  any 
one,  and  no  one  dared  to  open  his  lips.  At  last  Cis- 
neros spoke: 

1  Your  Excellency  has  slept  well? ' 
"  '  Huh! '    It  was  like  a  bull  at  his  first  banderilla. 
Then  the  Senor  McTavish  shook  his  head  and  pushed 
back  his  plate  and  said  one  word,  '  Sheekens! ' 

270 


EDUCATION 

"  No  one  knew  what  it  meant.  '  Sheekens! '  he  re- 
peated even  louder.  We  all  stared  at  one  another, 
then  at  him.  '  Sheekens ! '  he  roared,  and  we  all 
jumped  to  our  feet,  remembering  your  command  to 
give  him  everything  he  asked  for.  *  Sheekens !  sheek- 
ens !  damsheekens ! '  he  bellowed ;  then  seeing  our 
bewildered  expressions,  he  crouched  down  on  his  feet 
and  hopped  around  the  room,  flapping  his  hands  and 
saying  '  cluck!  cluck! '  and  wound  up  his  strange 
performance  with  a  loud  '  cock-a-doodle-doo ! '  Then 
it  dawned  upon  Cisneros  what  was  the  trouble.  The 
Senor  Inspector  wanted  eggs  for  breakfast!  Of 
course!  He  bowed  again  and  again  to  the  irate 
Scotchman,  whose  face  by  this  time  was  as  red  as  his 
hair. 

"  '  Combien,  senor? '  he  demanded.    '  One? ' 
'  One ! '  roared  the  old  man ;  *  twenty ! ' 

"  How  any  man  could  want  twenty  eggs  was  more 
than  we  could  comprehend,  but  Cisneros  flew  to  the 
kitchen.  He  came  back  with  a  long  face.  *  There  are 
but  seven,'  he  whispered,  '  and  God  only  knows  if 
they  are  fresh.' 

"  To  the  Senor  McTavish,  however,  he  bowed  and 
smiled,  assuring  him  that  he  should  be  served  at  once. 
It  was  but  a  moment  before  the  pretty  Trinidad  en- 
tered with  a  tray  and  seven  egg  cups,  in  each  of  which 
steamed  a  boiled  egg.  She  presented  them  to  the 
senor,  and,  of  a  truth,  senor,  I  believe  the  man  is 

271 


THE     SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

mad!  He  looked  at  the  tray  with  the  eggs,  then  at 
Trinidad,  then  at  Cisneros,  who  stood  bowing  and 
smiling,  his  hand  on  his  heart,  and  said,  with  an  air  of 
pride  at  having  so  well  understood,  '  Sheekens,  senor, 
si,  sheekens,  damsheekens ! ' 

"  Then  there  was  war,  and  this  time  it  was  as  if  el 
toro  saw  the  matador  and  his  sword.  The  Senor 
Inspector  picked  up  the  cups,  eggs  and  all,  and  one 
by  one  he  hurled  them  at  Cisneros.  Some  missed  be- 
cause Cisneros  was  bowing  like  a  mandarin.  Every 
time  his  head  came  up,  pop!  an  egg  hit  him.  Every 
time  his  head  bent  down,  bang!  an  egg  hit  the  wall 
behind  him.  He  himself  seemed  too  astonished  to 
speak,  or  to  stop  bowing.  At  last  the  seventh  egg  hit 
him  square  in  the  centre  of  the  forehead.  The  blow 
was  severe  —  perhaps  it  knocked  into  him  the  senses 
that  the  rage  of  the  senor  had  knocked  out.  At  any 
rate  he  dashed  his  hand  to  his  forehead  and  rushed 
from  the  room.  This  seemed  to  bring  the  Scotchman 
to  himself.  He  took  me  by  the  arm,  led  me  to  the 
windows  and  pointed.  Senor,  you  will  not  believe  it, 
but  the  window  of  his  room  had  long  been  left  open. 
Beneath  it  were  the  hen  houses,  the  doors  not  shut, 
and  upon  his  window  ledge  were  perched  a  half  a 
dozen  hens,  and  others  were  hopping  in  and  out.  The 
hens  had  roosted  with  the  senor  all  night,  and  the  room 
was  alive  with  them  and  their  friends!  Imagine  his 
sleep !  When  he  said  (  Sheekens '  he  was  trying  to 


Hall  of  the  Ambassadors,  Alhambra 


EDUCATION 

tell  us  why  he  had  slept  ill,  and  we  had  added  insult 
to  injury  by  serving  eggs  to  him  who  had  slept  all 
night  with  the  hens !  We  tried  to  explain,  and  at  last 
he  departed,  not  angry,  I  think,  for  he  went  to  see 
Cisneros,  who  lay  prone  in  the  bed  with  a  broken  head, 
and  the  Senor  Scotchman  laughed  very  loud  as  Cis- 
neros talked.  Then  they  shook  hands,  and  McTavish 
departed.  Cisneros  composed  himself  to  sleep,  and 
when  he  awakes  we  shall  give  him  an  egg  for  his 
luncheon!  "  and  the  young  engineer  laughed  wickedly. 

The  chief  laughed  too,  and  later  on,  when  there 
came  from  Madrid  for  the  Senor  Cisneros  a  beautiful 
gold  scarf  pin,  a  chicken  with  diamond  eyes,  Cisneros 
himself  smiled.  But  not  one  of  the  young  engineers 
ever  dared  again  to  offer  him  eggs  for  breakfast  or  to 
ask  him  if  he  spoke  English  "  perhaps  not  so  badly." 

In  other  professions  education  shows  equal  ad- 
vances. Medical  science  has  made  marvellous  strides 
since  the  days  of  the  Moslem  rule,  when,  by  the  kind- 
ness of  the  caliphs  the  sick  were  permitted  to  lie  upon 
the  stones  in  certain  sunshiny  street  corners  until  they 
recovered  —  or  died. 

Hospitals  compare  very  favorably  with  those  of 
other  European  countries,  and  the  new  hospital  of 
San  Juan  de  Dios  in  Madrid  is  thoroughly  up  to  date 
in  every  particular,  in  the  way  of  construction  and 
equipment  as  well  as  of  management.  Those  of  our 
practitioners  who  attended  the  medical  congress  in 


THE    SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

Madrid  were  very  much  astonished  at  the  advanced 
state  of  medical  science  in  the  Peninsula.  The  work 
of  Dr.  Ramon  y  Cajal  deserves  particular  mention,  as 
his  researches  in  the  minute  anatomy  of  the  brain  and 
spinal  cord  have  established  for  him  an  international 
reputation.  The  Spanish  Government  has  from  time 
to  time  made  very  generous  appropriations  to  aid  him 
in  carrying  on  his  good  work. 

Law  schools  flourish  in  the  universities,  and  the  law 
would  seem  to  be  a  favorite  line  of  work  for  young 
men  if  one  is  to  believe  Galdos,  the  most  realistic  por- 
trayer  of  the  Spanish  people.  He  writes:  "Chief, 
terrible  plague  of  Spain,  the  crowd  of  young  lawyers ! 
For  their  existence  a  fabulous  number  of  lawsuits  is 
necessary.  Lawsuits  multiply  in  proportion  to  the 
demand.  Idlers  full  of  pretensions  clamor  for  places, 
embarrass  the  administration,  agitate  public  opinion 
and  breed  revolution.  It  would  be  a  greater  pity  if 
there  were  law  suits  enough  for  all." 

The  profession  is  indeed  sadly  overcrowded.  Dona 
Emilia  Pardo  Bazan  in  her  inimitable  story,  "  The 
Angular  Stone,"  gives  a  vivid  picture  of  the  unsuccess- 
ful lawyer,  a  prey  to  such  gloomy  forebodings  that 
he  is  ready  even  for  suicide.  '  The  man  remained 
alone  in  the  temple  of  the  law,  his  gaze  wandered 
wildly  around  the  room,  which,  silent  and  solitary, 
had  at  this  moment  a  strange  majesty,  calculated  to 
inspire  respect  in  the  most  careless  mind.  The  walls 


EDUCATION 

were  hung  with  crimson  damask,  the  fabric  of  eti- 
quette and  official  authority  in  Spain,  which  har- 
monizes so  well  with  the  gilt  mouldings  and  affords 
so  rich  a  background  to  the  austere  faces  of  the  mag- 
istrates. The  armchairs,  on  whose  backs  of  dull  gold 
were  carved  the  scales  and  avenging  sword  of  Themis, 
were  covered  with  the  same  material.  The  cover  of 
the  table  and  the  tribune  of  the  attorney-general  were 
of  the  same  vivid  hue.  Under  the  canopy  of  the  pres- 
ident, King  Alphonso,  with  sallow  face,  libelled  by 
the  brush  of  a  bad  portrait  painter,  fixed  the  specta- 
tor with  sad,  intelligent  eyes.  The  proud  arms  of 
Spain,  embroidered  in  gold,  decorated  the  benches 
covered  with  worn  garnet  velvet." 

To  the  small  boy  the  army  is  ever  the  goal  of  am- 
bition. Spanish  boys  play  soldier  with  wooden 
swords,  their  chief  delight  being  conquering  "  Yan- 
kees," and  making  them  bow  the  knee  in  servile  sub- 
mission before  the  red  and  yellow.  That  the  army 
is  not  considered  a  lucrative  profession,  nor  one  in 
which  merit  is  likely  to  be  rewarded  any  better  than 
in  the  days  when  el  gran  Capitan  was  relegated  to 
Rota,  may  be  inferred  from  a  rhyme  in  vogue  in  child- 
ish circles: 

"The  Catalans  are  coming, 
Marching  two  by  two, 
All  who  hear  the  drumming 
Tiptoe  for  a  view, 
Ay,  ay, 

275 


THE    SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

Tiptoe  for  a  view, 

Red  and  yellow  banners, 

Pennies  very  few, 

Ay,  ay, 
Pennies  very  few. 

"Soldiers  need  not  learn  letters, 
Nor  any  schooly  thing, 
But  unless  they  mind  their  betters, 
In  golden  chains  they  '11  swing. 

Ay,  ay, 

In  golden  chains  they'll  swing, 
Or  sit  in  silver  fetters, 
Presents  from  the  king, 

Ay,  ay, 
Presents  from  the  king." 

There  are  several  training  schools  for  Spanish 
youth  in  which  an  excellent  military  education  may 
be  obtained.  The  Royal  Artillery  School  is  situated 
at  Segovia,  that  wonderful  old  town  which  Trajan's 
aqueduct  spans  with  its  hundred  stone  arches.  The 
school  is  held  in  one  of  the  abandoned  convents,  and, 
in  the  halls  where  once  demure,  black-robed  nuns  told 
their  beads,  gay,  dapper  cadets  with  the  smartest  of 
uniforms  hear  lectures  on  military  tactics,  and  are 
initiated  into  the  mysteries  of  army  life.  The  officers 
do  not  seem  to  be  the  strict  martinets  characteristic 
of  West  Point,  for  the  artillery  regiments  are  much 
sought  after  by  young  Spaniards,  and  the  cadets 
come  from  good  families  and  do  not  take  kindly  to 
rigorous  discipline.  Each  one  has  his  own  servant, 
who  looks  after  the  cadet's  uniforms  and  apartments, 

276 


EDUCATION 

the  cadet  lodging  at  a  distance  from  the  school. 
There  is  a  School  of  Infantry  at  Toledo,  and  there  are 
other  schools  in  different  parts  of  the  country,  but 
the  Artillery  School  remains  the  favorite  with  the 
wealthy  young  men  of  military  tastes. 

There  is  a  remarkable  corps  of  light  artillery  for 
mountain  work  which  is  much  admired  in  military 
circles,  small  portable  guns  being  mounted  upon  the 
backs  of  the  justly  famous  Spanish  army  mules. 
These  mules  are  not  only  of  the  greatest  service  in 
making  possible  the  mountain  artillery,  but  they  are 
invaluable  in  dragging  the  heavier  artillery  through 
the  steep  defiles  and  passes. 

The  Spanish  army  has  always  been  plentifully 
officered.  In  the  time  of  the  late  King  there  were 
500  generals,  475  colonels,  nearly  900  lieutenant- 
colonels,  2000  commandants,  5050  captains,  5875  lieu- 
tenants, and  4900  sub-lieutenants.  Of  late  years  a 
reform  has  been  instituted,  though,  as  it  strikes  in  a 
measure  at  Spanish  traditions,  it  is  dubious  whether 
the  reforms  will  be  successful. 

The  pay  of  the  Spanish  officer  is  so  small  that  only 
those  in  the  high  ranks  of  the  service  are  considered 
prizes  in  the  matrimonial  market.  Spanish  women 
are  a  trifle  "  canny  "  in  regard  to  finances  and  their 
daughters  are  taught  not  to  be  too  romantic.  ;<  Brass 
buttons  do  not  pay  bills  "  is  a  cynical  but  truthful 
proverb;  and  while  a  subaltern  makes  an  excellent 

277 


THE    SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

dancing  partner,  he  is  not  so  desirable  as  a  partner 
for  life.  The  story  is  told  of  a  young  sub-lieutenant 
who  proposed  to  a  pretty  Madrilena,  only  to  be  told 
in  the  gayest  of  voices  that  the  night  was  too  dark, 
that  there  were  not  enough  stars  to  be  seen !  *  The 
children  paraphrase  the  situation  in  one  of  the  street 
songs  they  sing  so  merrily  while  dancing  in  the 
Prado: 

"If  any  cadet  with  thee  would  go, 
Daughter  instantly  answer  '  No ! ' 
For  how  can  cadet  this  side  of  heaven 
Keep  a  wife  on  his  dollars  seven? 

"If  any  lieutenant  asks  a  caress, 
Daughter  instantly  answer  'Yes!' 
For  the  lieutenant  who  kisses  thy  hand 
May  come  to  be  a  general  grand." 

Perhaps  the  Spanish  uniforms  are  not  gay  enough 
to  catch  the  feminine  eye.  No  matter  how  fascin- 
ating is  the  pomp  and  panoply  of  war  to  most  of 
Eve's  daughters,  there  is  always  something  almost 
ludicrous  in  long-tailed  coats  on  a  man,  and  the  Span- 
ish army  coats  are  so  long  that  to  render  walking 
possible  the  tails  have  to  be  turned  back  on  each  side 
and  the  corners  fastened  in  the  back.  The  trousers 
are  very  loose  and  bag  at  the  knee,  only  the  caps  are 
smart,  and  even  these  are  replaced  in  some  regiments 
by  hats,  and  the  overcoats  by  huge  capas,  so  that  the 

*  A  subaltern  has  but  one  star  on  his  sleeve,  which  indicates  his  rank. 

278 


EDUCATION 

soldiers,  many  of  them  darkly  bearded,  look  more  like 
picturesque  brigands  than  military  men. 

The  carelessness,  almost  slouchiness  of  attire  is 
shown  most  plainly  at  the  Neutral  Ground  between 
Gibraltar  and  Linea,  which  is  guarded  by  both  Brit- 
ish and  Spanish  soldiers.  The  English  "  Tommy 
Atkins  "  is  smart,  well  set  up,  and  groomed  like  a 
hunter  on  the  day  of  the  meet,  and  the  Spaniard, 
wrapped  in  his  cloak,  his  cap  awry,  is  lazily  smoking 
a  cigarette.  But  whatever  may  be  the  personal 
appearance  of  the  Spanish  soldier,  never  in  history 
has  his  courage  been  questioned.  Indeed  the  pages 
of  history  are  full  of  his  desperate  deeds  of  valor.  In 
the  Italian  wars,  the  wars  with  France,  the  wars  of 
the  Succession  which  divided  their  own  country,  and 
in  their  wars  of  conquest  in  the  new  world,  the  Span- 
ish soldiers,  both  officers  and  men,  have  always  shown 
a  wonderful  courage,  an  unflinching  contempt  for 
danger.  Pelayo,  with  his  forlorn  hope  in  the  Py- 
renees ;  The  Cid,  as  brave  as  the  Lion  on  the  Spanish 
shield;  el  Gran  Capitan,  smiling  with  the  pikes  of 
his  disgruntled  men  at  his  breast;  Ximenez,  soldier 
and  Cardinal,  undaunted  on  the  walls  of  Iran, — 
these  are  but  a  few  examples;  and  history  multiplies 
them  down  to  our  own  day,  when  Spanish  valor  was 
but  too  well  displayed  in  the  final  struggle  in  Cuba. 

It  is  a  point  of  honor  with  the  Spanish  army  officers 
to  lead  where  ever  their  men  must  go,  and  never  to 

279 


THE     SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

display  even  agitation  in  the  face  of  danger.  Our 
soldiers  have  told  of  the  heroism  of  these  officers  both 
in  Cuba  and  in  the  Philippines. 

Officered  thus,  even  the  raw  recruits  of  baser  clay 
soon  acquire  the  more  characteristic  military  virtues, 
and  the  Spanish  soldiers  are  very  amenable  to  discip- 
line, their  point  of  pride  apparently  being  to  follow 
their  commander  wherever  he  leads. 

The  ceremony  of  enlisting  is  rather  interesting. 
The  conscripts  are  assembled  before  the  military 
barracks,  as  the  band  plays  the  Royal  March. 


In  the  centre  of  the  parade  ground,  the  color- 
sergeant  displays  the  Spanish  banner,  its  red  and  yel- 
low bars  flaunting  proudly  in  the  breeze.  Opposite  the 
color-bearer  stands  a  captain  with  drawn  sword  raised 
in  air.  Between  flag  and  sword  each  new  recruit 
must  pass,  swearing  the  most  solemn  of  oaths  to  de- 
fend the  flag  to  the  last  drop  of  his  blood.  Receiving 
for  these  sanguinary  services  only  the  munificent  sum 
of  three  cents  a  day,  one  would  imagine  the  patriot- 
ism of  the  Spaniard  to  be  undoubted. 

It  is  less  difficult  for  the  army  to  obtain  soldiers 

280 


EDUCATION 

now  than  it  was  before  the  colonies  were  lost  to  Spain, 
for  every  village  boy  then  had  an  inate  horror  of  the 
conscription  which  might  send  him  to  "  the  islands  " 
as  Cuba  and  the  Philippines  were  called. 

At  the  present  time,  not  even  the  Basques,  whose 
ancient  fueros  exempted  them  from  military  service, 
can  escape  conscription.  Every  man  from  nineteen 
to  thirty  years  of  age  is  obliged  to  serve  his  time  in 
the  army.  By  a  payment  of  three  hundred  dollars 
he  may  be  relieved  from  service  in  time  of  peace,  but 
nothing  can  exempt  him  in  war  time.  Each  private 
serves  twelve  years,  three  in  the  regular  service,  and 
the  remaining  nine  years  in  periods  of  three  years 
each,  in  the  first,  second,  and  third  reserves. 

A  few  years  ago  the  navy  as  a  profession  was  more 
popular  in  Spain  than  the  army.  Spain  has  con- 
siderable coast  line,  and  the  men  from  the  coast  were 
conscripted  to  the  navy  and  proved  themselves  good 
seamen.  Their  officers  were  brave  fellows,  and  be- 
tween officers  and  men  was  great  good  feeling. 

A  Spanish  naval  officer  tells  a  rather  droll  tale  of 
one  of  the  happenings  of  his  career,  and  it  is  worth 
re-telling  because,  though  he  tells  it  only  as  an  excel- 
lent joke  upon  himself,  it  illustrates  how  ready  the 
Spanish  officer  ever  is  to  take  upon  himself  the  post 
of  greatest  danger. 

'  It  was  at  Cadiz  that  it  happened,  senora,  and 
we  were  anchored  off  the  mole.  A  great  fire  broke 

281 


THE    SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

out  in  one  of  the  warehouses  on  the  water  front  and 
I  was  sent  with  a  squad  of  sailors  to  aid  the  firemen. 
We  had  a  hard  fight  with  the  flames  but  were  begin- 
ning to  make  headway  against  them,  when  some  one 
peering  up  a  runway  into  a  warehouse  filled  with 
naval  stores,  saw  a  dozen  or  more  barrels.  The  flames 
were  creeping  nearer  and  nearer  to  them  and  instantly 
the  cry  was  raised  '  Powder! ' 

'  What  was  there  for  me  to  do,  senora?  That 
powder  would  explode  in  another  five  minutes,  many 
brave  men  would  be  killed,  and  of  course  I  could  not 
send  any  of  my  men  into  a  danger  I  would  not  face 
myself. 

6  Flood  the  runway  and  play  the  hose  on  the  bar- 
rels while  I  roll  them  out,'  I  cried  and  ran  up  the 
runway. 

:'  The  smoke  was  blinding,  senora,  and  those 
wretched  barrels  were  heavy  as  lead.  The  first  bar- 
rel I  rolled  down  scorched  my  hands,  the  second  was 
smoking  and  the  next  had  its  hoops  nearly  burned 
through  as  it  went  plunk  into  the  water.  When  I 
myself  rolled  down  after  the  last  barrel  and  followed 
it  into  the  water  of  the  bay,  it  was  a  pleasant  bath 
because  I  was  quite  warm.  My  hair  and  eyebrows 
were  singed  off,  and  my  beautiful  mustache,  senora, 
the  growth  of  which  I  had  patiently  cultivated  for 
years,  was  a  cinder.  My  arms  and  shoulders  were, 
well,  somewhat  uncomfortable,  and  my  uniform,  alas, 
was  ruined.  You  do  not  comprehend  what  a  mis- 


J 


xsc«^ 

T 


EDUCATION 

fortune  that  was,  senora.  No,  how  should  you?  But 
one's  pay  is  not  always  of  a  great  magnificence,  and 
each  new  uniform  means  so  many  less  cigaritos,  so 
much  less  Amontillado,  so  many  fewer  bull-fights,  and, 
worst  of  all,  so  many,  many,  fewer  sweets  and  favors 
for  the  little  Rosita  who  waits  in  Sevilla  until  I  shall 
have  my  promotion. 

"  It  was  of  her  that  I  thought  as  I  rolled  down 
those  barrels.  I  was  doing  nothing  but  my  duty,  any 
man  would  have  done  the  same,  but  still  it  was  not  in 
the  regular  line  —  perhaps  it  would  be  noticed  —  and 
I  saw  myself  receiving  His  Majesty's  cross  for 
bravery,  amidst  the  cheers  of  a  crowd  of  admiring 
friends.  I  felt  the  Cross  upon  my  breast.  I  heard 
the  frantic  shouts  of  my  men!  Promotion  was  cer- 
tain! Rosita  was  mine!  But  alas!  senora,  affairs 
marched  not  thus.  You  see,  the  barrels  were  filled 
only  with  rivets !  " 

To-day  service  in  the  navy  is  less  popular  than  in 
the  army,  since  the  fearful  disaster  of  Santiago  de 
Cuba,  which  left  to  Spain  only  two  battleships,  the 
Pelayo  and  the  Carlos  Quintus. 

Had  the  good  pesetas  which  should  have  equipped 
the  navy  not  gone  into  the  pockets  of  the  politicians, 
the  Spanish- American  war  might  have  had  a  differ- 
ent issue.  The  men  of  Cervera's  fleet  were  brave 
enough  through  all  their  terrible  odds.  This  they 
showed  by  the  manner  in  which  they  responded  to  the 

283 


THE    SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

fatal  order  to  sail  out  of  the  harbor,  when,  to  a  man, 
they  knew  that  to  obey  meant  death  or  capture. 

Admiral  Cervera  himself  was  as  calm  as  though 
leading  a  peaceful  naval  parade  as  he  stood  upon  the 
forward  tower  of  his  flagship  during  that  memorable 
sally.  The  men,  their  comrades  dropping  all  about 
them  on  the  deck,  dead  or  dying  from  the  deadly 
American  fire,  were  equally  undisturbed.  This 
strange  calm  shows  itself  in  the  official  report  of  the 
old  Admiral,  which  begins,  "  In  obedience  to  your 
orders,*  in  the  face  of  that  which  would  have  happened 
and  of  which  you  were  informed,  I  left  the  Bay  of 
Santiago  for  sea  on  the  third  day  of  July  - 
He  might  well  have  used  the  famous  words  of  a  great 
Frenchman  in  defeat,  "  all  is  lost  save  honor,"  and 
the  heroism  of  his  defeat  will  add  one  more  glory 
to  the  history  of  Spain. 

To-day  it  would  seem  as  if  the  sea-faring  instincts 
of  the  Spaniard  lay  dormant.  Surely,  however,  the 
descendants  of  sailors  who  followed  Columbus  and 
Magellan  across  unknown  seas  must  have  even  yet 
the  music  of  the  sea-song  within  their  breasts;  for 
the  sea-passion  never  dies,  and  one  day  Spain's  navy 
will  arise  again,  brave  and  strong  as  in  the  days  when 
silver-winged  fleets  sailed  down  the  rippling  Guadal- 
quivir to  the  bounding  seas. 

*  This  refers  to  the  order  of  the  Spanish  Minister  of  Marine  to  Cervera  to 
leave  the  harbor  and  engage  the  enemy. 

284 


CHAPTER   XIV 

LITERATURE  AND  THE  FINE  ARTS 

WHEN  asked  about  the  profession  of  literature 
In  Spain,  Dona  Emilia  Pardo  Bazan  replied 
succinctly,  "  There  is  no  profession  of  literature  in 
Spain,"  and  her  word  should  be  accepted  as  authori- 
tative, since  she  herself  has  been  for  years  the  femin- 
ine exponent  of  the  craft. 

Poetry  is  never  a  lucrative  profession  in  any  land. 
In  Spain  it  is  read  in  the  provinces  still,  but  society 
people  read  Campoamor,  who  amuses  and  philoso- 
phizes, makes  men  laugh  and  women  think.  Modern 
literature  in  Spain  however,  is  rich  in  dramatists  and 
novelists. 

The  classic  drama  at  the  Theatro  Espagnol, 
Madrid,  always  puts  on  some  bright  curtain-raisers 
before  the  play,  and  these  are  full  of  clever  catches 
and  dialogue.  The  modern  vaudeville  is  said  to  have 
emanated  from  Spain,  and  the  vaudevilles  are  gener- 
ally good,  the  programme,  always  including  some 
wonderful  dancing,  sword  play,  and  good  music. 

Among  the  modern  dramatists  Echegaray  is  ap- 

285 


THE    SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

parently  the  most  popular;  his  plays  work  upon  the 
feelings  of  his  audience,  "El  loco  Dios  "  causing  a 
veritable  furore  in  Madrid  when  first  presented. 
Galdos's  "  Electra  "  did  likewise;  and  the  plays  of 
Azula  and  Estebanez  are  also  popular,  though,  to  the 
credit  of  Spanish  taste  be  it  said,  to-day  houses  are 
even  more  crowded  to  hear  one  of  Calderon's  or  Lope 
de  Vega's  plays  than  for  the  modern  dramas. 

It  is,  however,  in  her  modern  novelists  that  Spain's 
literature  is  particularly  brilliant.  Few  countries  can 
boast  of  writers  so  pure  in  language  and  in  tone,  bril- 
liant in  execution,  faithful  in  the  pictures  of  the  life 
which  they  portray,  and  every  Spanish  province  has  its 
portrayer. 

Valera's  work  has  grace  and  delicacy  of  style; 
Fernan  Caballero  writes  charming  romances  of  An- 
dalucian  peasant  life.  Becquer's  scenes  are  placed 
in  Toledo  or  Seville.  Pereda's  *  velvet  touch  is  laid 
upon  Santander,  and  Dona  Emilia  Pardo  Bazan 
makes  alive  on  paper  the  people  of  Leon  and  Galicia. 
Perez-Galdos  reminds  one  of  Erckmann-Chatrian  in 
his  spirited  war  stories ;  and  Valdes, — who  that  has  ever 
read  can  forget  his  portrayals  of  Valencian  women? 
There  is  about  the  work  of  Valdes  something  which 
reveals  freely  the  author's  tone  of  mind,  with  its 
gentle  humor,  its  sunshiny  serenity,  its  wholesome 
cleanliness  of  atmosphere,  its  magnanimity  of  tone 

*  Pereda  died  in  1906. 


LITERATURE    AND    FINE    ARTS 

and  a  certain  lofty  spirituality.  Mr.  Howells  has  felt 
this  charm,  for  he  writes  in  a  critique  of  Valdes's  books, 
"  Americans  are  apt  to  think,  because  we  banged  the 
Spanish  warships  to  pieces,  that  we  are  superior  to 
the  Spaniards,  but  in  the  field  in  which  there  is  always 
peace  they  shine  our  masters. 

'  La  Alegria  del  Capitan  Ribot '  is,  as  all  the  stories 
of  Valdes  are,  a  modern  novel  of  the  manners  and 
customs  of  provincial  Spain,  a  tender  idyl,  but  on 
the  other  hand  it  is  an  exquisite  comedy  with  some 
fine  tragic  implications." 

In  the  realms  of  history,  Pasquel  de  Gayangos  is 
known  all  over  the  world  as  scholar,  philologist,  and 
historian,  and  his  history  of  the  Arabs  in  Spain  is  one 
of  the  most  subtle  studies  of  Orientals  ever  penned. 
Senor  Menendez  y  Pelayo's  marvellous  "  History  of 
^Esthetic  Ideas  in  Spain  "  is  a  classic,  and  he  has  com- 
pleted thirteen  volumes  of  his  edition  of  the  works  of 
Lope  de  Vega. 

Studies  of  history  and  folk  lore  are  very  popular 
in  Spain,  and  excellent  work  is  done  in  that  line  by 
Senor  Don  Francesco  de  Cardenas,  Father  Fida  the 
Jesuit,  and  many  others.  The  folk  tales,  many  of 
them  in  verse,  enter  largely  into  the  modern  Spanish 
music,  and  this  field  is  one  of  the  most  interesting  in 
Spain  to-day.  The  history  of  church  music  tells  of 
famous  names  such  as  Morales  and  Victoria,  with 
Dignified  motifs  and  wonderful  harmonizations.  In 

287 


THE    SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

operatic  music,  the  zarzuelas  given  during  the  sum- 
mer months  in  the  Madrid  theatres,  three  or  four 
in  an  evening,  are  charmingly  rendered  and  full  of 
Spanish  vigor  and  vivacity.  Oudrid,  Gastambide, 
Barbiere,  and  Arrieta  are  four  composers  who  gave 
their  attention  to  the  zarzuelas,  so  called  because  the 
first  operettas  of  the  kind  were  performed  in  the 
seventeenth  century  at  the  Castle  of  Zarzuela.  It 
is,  however,  in  the  folk  music,  the  songs  of  the  com- 
mon people  that  one  finds  true  Spanish  melody. 
That  the  individuality  of  the  race  has  stamped  itself 
upon  this  form  of  music  is  shown  by  the  fact  that 
no  one  hears  this  music  without  being  filled  with  a 
desire  to  hum  in  bolero  time,  to  click  the  castanets  or 
finger  a  guitar. 

There  is  about  these  folk  songs  a  certain  rythmic 
movement  or  swaying  lilt  suggestive  of  the  movements 
of  the  Spanish  dance,  in  fact  most  of  the  folk  music 
was  written  as  accompaniments  to  the  dances.  Of 
the  oldest  folk  songs,  the  canciopieros  of  troubadour 
days,  the  words  only  have  been  preserved,  but  there 
date  from  the  fifteenth  century  both  the  music  and 
words  of  many  quaint  melodies,  the  music  having  been 
transcribed  from  the  singing  of  blind  minstrels,  who 
even  yet  wander  from  town  to  town. 

Andalucian  melodies  show  the  Moorish  strain,  with 
intervals  not  used  in  the  European  scale,  and  peculiar 
rythmie  combinations.  This  quality  is  shown  even  in 

288 


LITERATURE    AND    FINE    ARTS 

the  sereno's  call,  and  it  reminds  one  of  the  Muezzin's 
call  to  prayer  heard  in  the  stillness  of  the  night,  when 
the  moon  rises  over  the  desert,  bathing  with  light  its 
rippling  sands  and  turning  them  to  gold  and  silver 
in  her  shimmering  rays. 

The  Basque  music  has  the  wonderful  quality  of  the 
Celt  with  often  a  wild,  heroic  strain,  as  in  the  cantique 
national,  "  Ay,  ay,  ay,  mutila  chapelli-gorriya !  " 

The  Basque  political  songs  are  always  accompanied 
by  the  two  typical  Basque  instruments,  the  dulsinya 
and  the  tamboril,  a  variety  of  the  flageolet,  and  the 
drum.  They  are  peculiarly  inspiring,  though  they 
have  not  the  passion  and  poetry  of  the  Andalucian 
airs,  which  combine  pathos  and  gayety  with  all  the 
intensity  of  the  Andalucians  themselves. 

One  of  the  Southern  folk  songs  takes  for  its  theme 
the  quaint  alcarrazas,  or  curious  water  jars  hung  from 
the  balconies  of  all  Andalucian  houses  in  the  olden 
days,  and  which  are  even  yet  seen  in  country  places. 

"Alcarraza  de  tu  casa 
Chiquilla,  quisiera  ser, 
Para  besarte  los  labios 
Cuando  fueras  a  beber."  * 

carols  the  lover  at  his  sweetheart's  window,  —  a  dainty 
conceit,  of  which  this  folk  music  is  filled. 

Among  the  more  modern  songs  those  of  Yradier 

"  Dearest,  your  alcarraza  I  would  be ; 
Then  would  I  kiss  your  lips  when  e'er  you  drank  of  me!  " 
289 


THE    SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

are  noted  for  their  liquid  melody  like  nothing  so  much 
as  the  bird  notes  of  the  Alhambra  forest,  a  dainty 
charm,  gracia  y  sal>  which  reminds  one  of  some  of  the 
modern  Spanish  paintings  which  show  the  same  deli- 
cacy of  treatment. 

In  Spain  it  is  to-day  somewhat  difficult  to  distin- 
guish the  fine  arts  from  the  crafts,  so  artistic  are  the 
latter.  Porcelain,  wrought  iron,  and  bronze  work, 
gold  and  silver  inlays  and  filigrees  are  no  less  works  of 
art  than  are  the  wood  carvings,  stone  work,  sculpture, 
and  painting  which  show  that  the  genius  of  Ber- 
reguete,  Silvela,  Chivruguera,  and  Velasquez  still 
lives  in  Spain. 

Modern  art  is  said  by  some  not  to  reach  the  heights 
attained  by  the  great  masters  in  any  country,  and  to 
those  who  take  this  pessimistic  view  of  Spanish  art, 
the  twentieth  century  shows  fair  promise. 

There  are  art  schools  in  Spain  in  all  the  museums 
and  at  the  residences  of  the  great  painters  and  sculp- 
tors. In  the  capitals  of  the  provinces  are  academies 
of  design  with  free  instruction  to  all,  the  masters 
being  paid  by  the  Government.  Here  are  taught 
crayon,  sepia,  water  color  and  oil  painting,  and  the 
most  promising  pupils,  the  ones  who  show  signs  of 
genius,  receive  pensions  at  the  close  of  their  course, 
which  enables  them  to  study  at  the  School  of  Arts  in 
Seville,  Valencia,  Barcelona,  or  Madrid;  and  after 
finishing  their  course  in  one  of  these  cities,  to  go  to 

290 


A   Spanish   Woman    (Goya) 


A  Modern  Carmen 


LITERATURE    AND    FINE    ARTS 

Rome,  all  the  expense  of  their  art  education  being 
paid  by  the  Government. 

The  fashion  of  wealthy  men  acting  as  patrons  to 
clever  students  has  by  no  means  passed  in  Spain. 
This  agreeable  relic  of  the  Middle  Ages  still  remains, 
as  when  Pecheco  helped  Murillo  to  fame.  Philan- 
thropic patrons  of  the  arts  take  under  their  protection 
to-day,  impoverished  geniuses  and  "  frank  them  to 
Parnassus  "  to  use  the  irreverent  expression  of  one 
of  them. 

Pride  is  deep-seated  in  the  Spanish  breast,  and  these 
students  are  as  proud  as  they  are  poor.  To  avoid 
hurting  their  feelings  they  are  never  spoken  of  as 
dependents  but  are  most  aristocratically  styled,  Sec- 
retary to  His  Excellency  the  Duke  of  this  or  that. 

After  Velasquez  —  the  deluge  —  one  would  almost 
say  of  Spanish  painting,  yet  Goya's  genius  proved  an 
Ark  of  the  Covenant  sufficient  to  preserve  art  to  the 
eighteenth  century.  Goya's  historical  canvases  weep 
tears  of  blood,  but  his  Spanish  women  are  so  charm- 
ing in  type,  so  full  of  beauty  and  so  distinctively 
Spanish  that  one  forgives  him  anything. 

Following  Goya,  Madrazo,  the  court  painter,  has 
some  claims  to  fame,  though  the  inimitable  Count 
Vessili  says  Madrazo's  chief  works  of  art  were  his  son 
and  grandson.  The  latter,  Raimundo  Madrazo, 
brother-in-law  of  Fortuny,  lived  in  Paris  and  identified 
himself  with  the  French  school  of  painting.  Fortuny's 

291 


THE    SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

style  was  genre.  His  fame  was  made  by  "  The  Span- 
ish Marriage,"  a  picture  especially  interesting  since  it 
contained  portraits  of  noted  people  of  the  day,  Mme. 
Fortuny,  the  painter  Regnault,  and  others.  His 
work  has  long  been  a  dominating  influence  in  modern 
Spanish  art;  it  is  individual,  skilful,  and  vivacious. 
Many  of  his  most  famous  pictures  were  sketched 
during  the  Spanish  war  in  Morocco,  when  he  was  on 
the  staff  of  General  Prim. 

One  of  the  modern  Spanish  painters  little  known  to 
the  outside  world  is  Francisco  Pradilla,  history  and 
genre  painter,  wearer  of  the  Grand  Cross  of  Isabella 
la  Catolica,  and  all  manner  of  decorations  for  excel- 
lent work.  Pradilla  was  born  at  Villanova  de  Gal- 
lego,  Saragossa,  in  1847,  graduated  at  San  Fernando, 
Madrid,  and  then  went  to  study  in  Rome.  He  has 
long  been  considered  the  foremost  of  modern  Spanish 
painters,  though  now  Villegas  shares  with  him  this 
distinction.  Pradillo  paints  in  ,the  Spanish  manner. 
His  canvases  fairly  glow  with  color,  the  types  are  all 
Spanish  and  are  portrayed  with  careful  attention  to 
detail.  His  "  Surrender  of  Granada  "*  is  one  of  the 
finest  of  historical  paintings.  Many  competent  critics 
compare  it  favorably  with  Valesquez'  "  Surrender  of 
Breda,"  and  describe  it  as  the  most  perfect  portrayal 
of  any  event  in  Spanish  history.  The  artist  has  seized 
the  most  dramatic  moment  of  the  scene,  the  moment 

*  The  original  in  the  Layton  Art  Gallery,  Milwaukee,  Wisconsin. 


LITERATURE    AND    FINE    ARTS 

when,  "within  sight  of  the  royal  group,  Boabdil  halted, 
composed  his  aspect,  but  never  in  mien  and  majesty 
more  a  king,  the  son  of  Abdallah  met  his  haughty 
conqueror." 

Every  detail  of  the  magnificent  canvas  is  carefully 
studied;  armor,  dress,  the  trappings  of  the  horses, 
the  short  swords  of  the  squires,  all  are  historically 
correct;  but  the  marvellous  expressions  upon  the 
faces,  the  splendid  glow  of  life  over  all,  is  Pradilla's 
own,  for  he  has  breathed  upon  it  with  the  fire  of  his 
genius  and  made  the  picture  appeal  to  both  the  imag- 
ination and  the  heart. 

Other  well-known  artists  of  to-day  are  Ximenez, 
Aranda,  Domingo,  Sorolla,  Zuloaga,  Anglada,  and 
Camaroso.  In  recent  years  Sorolla  has  painted 
many  portraits  of  members  of  the  royal  family  and 
other  distinguished  personages  of  contemporary 
Spain,  but  it  is  not  as  a  portrait  painter  that  he 
excels.  He  is  above  all  a  painter  of  the  sunlight 
and  the  types  that  live  and  move  in  the  sunlight.  He 
revels  in  the  sparkle  of  water,  in  the  dash  of  the 
wraves  across  the  golden  sands,  in  bronzed  maidens 
and  sturdy  youths  working  in  the  vineyards  and 
orange  groves  or  loitering  by  the  sea  shore.  Zuloaga, 
on  the  other  hand,  deals  with  a  world  of  flaunting 
picturesqueness ;  gypsies,  bull  fighters,  dancers,  and 
beggars  swarm  upon  his  canvases.  He  is  not  the 
painter  of  the  brightness  and  glory  of  nature,  but 

293 


THE    SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

rather,  with  the  diabolism  of  Goya,  he  portrays  the 
habitues  of  the  bull  ring  and  the  painted  women  of 
the  streets. 

Sculpture  in  Spain  was  always  architectural,  gen- 
erally churchly.  From  the  marble  walls  of  dimly 
lighted  churches  gleamed  snowy  angel  forms,  or  from 
their  carven  niches  saints  smiled  down  upon  the  wor- 
shippers below.  Everything  combined  to  make  per- 
fect these  mediaeval  sculptures,  enshrined  in  traceries 
as  delicate  as  ice  fern  or  fairy  gossamer.  The  genius 
which  wrought  these  sculptured  dreams  and  archi- 
tectural phantasies  is  not  dead  in  Spain;  her  modern 
sculpture  shows  names  great  in  the  world's  art  history. 

One  of  the  first  things  which  strike  a  traveller  in 
Spain  is  the  terra  cotta  tilings  on  the  pretty  white 
houses.  How  exquisitely  soft-hued  they  are  against 
the  blue  of  the  Spanish  sky!  There  must  be  some 
peculiar  properties  in  the  clay,  for  nowhere  in  the 
world  does  one  see  in  this  work  such  perfection  of 
color.  These  tiles  have  been  used  for  generations  in 
Spain,  being  remarkably  well  adapted  to  the  Spanish 
climate.  Their  manufacture  was  a  Spanish  art  long 
before  the  Moors  first  sought  the  Iberian  coast,  but 
the  glazed  tiles  used  in  the  southern  part  of  the  Pen- 
insula are  of  Moorish  origin. 

Of  these  azulejos  of  enamelled  earthenware,  the 
marvellous  tiles  in  the  Alhambra  are  the  best  ex- 
amples. The  secret  of  their  manufacture  has  never 


LITERATURE    AND    FINE    ARTS 

been  lost  and  they  are  still  made  in  the  great  factories 
of  Seville,  Madrid,  and  Valencia,  in  hues  as  soft  and 
restful  to  the  eye  as  when  the  Moorish  Fatima  of  the 
Alhambra  copied  the  embroideries  bordering  her  cling- 
ing robes  from  the  walls  of  her  husband's  palace. 

The  tiles  are  used  in  courts,  passages,  patios,  gar- 
dens, bathrooms,  in  butcher  shops  and  fish  stalls,  and 
could  their  utility  be  comprehended  as  readily  as  their 
beauty  is  appreciated,  they  would  be  introduced  every- 
where. There  are  many  places  where  they  could 
with  advantage  be  substituted  for  stone,  they  are  far 
more  durable  than  frescoes,  and  much  more  desirable 
than  bricks  for  exterior  decoration. 

The  history  of  Spanish  pottery  is  interesting  to 
lovers  of  ceramics.  Phoenicians  made  wonderful 
cups  and  bowls,  and  Carthaginian  pottery  from 
Saguntum  was  much  fancied  by  the  Romans. 
Pliny  tells  us  that  over  twelve  hundred  workmen 
were  employed  in  the  manufacture  of  the  "  jasper 
red  "  ware  alone.  This  ware  was  exceedingly  beau- 
tiful both  in  color  and  texture,  if  one  may  judge 
from  the  few  specimens  now  existing.  During  the 
Middle  Ages  the  Spanish  kings  were  generous 
patrons  of  the  ceramic  arts,  and  did  much  to  intro- 
duce French  methods  and  French  models.  The  fac- 
tories at  La  Gran j  a,  Buen  Retiro,  and  La  Moncloa, 
under  royal  patronage,  made  porcelains  after  the 
fashion  of  the  French  Sevres  and  Italian  Capo  di 

295 


THE    SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

Monte.  Spain  antedated  the  Italians  in  the  manu- 
facture of  the  wonderful  Majolica,  so  long  thought 
to  be  a  purely  Italian  ware.  The  Spanish  pottery  of 
this  style  was  introduced  from  Valencia  to  Majorca, 
thence  to  Pisa  and  Pisaro.  All  the  Bourbon  influ- 
ence could  not  obliterate  the  Moorish  touch  so  appar- 
ent in  this  field. 

The  finest  Spanish  potteries  to-day  still  retain 
traces  of  the  Moor  in  shape  and  coloring,  and  it  is 
strange  how,  conquered  in  the  field  of  war,  the  Moors 
should  have  left  their  mark  forever  upon  this  art  as 
they  did  upon  no  other.  To  this  day  the  earthen- 
ware pots  and  water  jars  of  Spain  preserve  the 
Moorish  shapes.  They  are  made  of  a  peculiarly 
scented  clay  which  old  Spanish  chronicles  tell  us 
Spanish  women  loved  to  nibble  at  and  bite,  "  which 
custom  being  displeasing  to  their  stomachs,  their  con- 
fessors had  much  ado  to  check  them  from  its  pursuit." 

In  the  Middle  Ages  the  water  jars  were  highly 
valued.  The  water  was  supposed  to  acquire  from  the 
jar  a  strange  property  of  curing  illness,  and  a  cup 
of  this  ware  was  said  to  betray  the  presence  of  any 
poison  in  its  contents. 

All  over  Spain,  especially  in  La  Mancha  and 
Murcia,  one  sees  these  quaint,  round-bellied  water 
jars,  as  in  the  days  when  Don  Quixote  had  his 
memorable  encounter  with  the  knights ;  and  the  criada 
who  fills  her  jar  at  the  well  looks  the  true  Oriental 

296 


LITERATURE    AND    FINE    ARTS 

with  her  dark  eyes  and  hair  and  the  soft  toned  browns 
of  her  skin. 

Ximena,  her  tiny  sister  playing  beside  the  rippling 
waters  of  the  Darro,  instead  of  the  mud  pies  of  our 
childhood's  days,  out  of  bits  of  moistened  clay  fash- 
ions pots  and  cups  like  these  same  water  jars,  baking 
them  in  the  sun  until  they  are  quite  ready  for  her 
diminutive  housekeeping.  She  is  an  entrancing  nina, 
this  small,  black-eyed  elf!  Conversation  with  her, 
though  at  first  a  trifle  one-sided,  proves  interesting 
as  her  shyness  wears  off. 

"  What  do  you  here  all  day,  little  one? "  you  ask. 
Stupid  query!  the  answer  is  obvious. 

:<  I  play,  senora." 

"  With  what.     I  see  no  toys." 

'  Toys,  senora?    What  are  they?  " 

"  You  do  not  know  what  toys  are?  Why,  they  are 
dolls  and  blocks  and  stuffed  puppy  dogs."  The 
straight  little  black  brows  met  in  a  puzzled  frown. 
"  Dogs,  senora,  there  are  many  below,  where  dwell 
the  gypsies.  They  bark  all  day  and  howl  all  night 
and  eat  all  the  time.  I  think  them  stuffed.  Dolls 
and  blocks  I  do  not  know.  I  think  they  are  not 
Spanish."  (Oh,  what  a  fine  scorn  for  things  outside 
the  charmed  circle  of  All  Spain!)  "  But  I  have  good 
Spanish  things.  I  play  with  the  sun,  and  the  water 
talks  to  me,  and  the  earth  minds  my  fingers,  and  thus 
I  have  my  play  with  the  blessing  of  all  three." 

297 


THE    SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

Happy  philosopher,  learning  early  the  lesson  of 
content !  What  more  could  one  desire  —  sun,  earth, 
and  water,  all  taught  to  obey  human  behest.  Yet 
one  more  question,  for  the  tiny  point  of  view  is 
interesting. 

"  You  make  the  Moorish  water  jars,  nina.  Do 
you  know  about  the  Moors?  " 

"  The  Moors,  senora?  Were  they  some  of  the 
saints  ? " 

"Perhaps,  little  one,  God  knows!"  How  could 
one  tell  her  they  were  heretic?  Espagnolita,  Catholic 
above  all  else  —  she  could  never  have  played  happily 
with  her  dainty  little  water  jars  again! 

The  pottery  industry  to-day  is  steadily  on  the  in- 
crease. The  porcelain  manufactories  of  Seville, 
Barcelona,  Segovia,  and  Talavera  are  turning  out 
beautiful  work,  and  new  factories  are  springing  up 
all  over  the  country.  So,  too,  are  glass  works,  fit 
progeny  of  those  pre-Roman  works  of  Celtic-Iberia, 
for  glass-making  was  established  in  Spain  long  before 
the  Roman  invasion.  The  glass  ovens  of  those  primi- 
tive times  consisted  of  three  compartments,  one  above 
another.  One  held  the  fire,  the  second  was  made 
with  a  dome  to  retain  the  heat,  the  third  held  the  glass 
when  cooling.  These  ovens  were  about  nine  feet  high 
and  six  feet  around,  and  were  built  of  argil,  a  material 
unaffected  by  the  intense  heat. 

The  specimens  of  Spanish  glass  of  the  Moorish 

298 


The  Cathedral  of  Zaragoza 


LITERATURE    AND    FINE    ARTS 

period  which  still  remain  show  jars,  flasks,  bowls,  and 
cups  of  exquisite  ornamentation,  with  raised  trellis- 
work  in  white,  often  on  a  green  ground,  of  great  deli- 
cacy of  tone  and  perfection  of  execution. 

The  embroideries  of  Spain  are  wellnigh  as  artistic 
as  her  paintings  and  potteries,  and  they  are  still  as 
finely  executed  as  in  the  thirteenth  century,  when 
"  the  needle  of  the  embroiderer  was  like  a  painter's 
brush,  describing  facile  outlines  on  luxurious  fabrics, 
and  filling  in  the  spaces,  sometimes  with  brilliant 
hues,  sometimes  with  softly  graduated,  harmonious 
tones,  which  imitated  the  entire  color  scheme  of  na- 
ture." By  the  sixteenth  century  the  art  was  at  its 
highest  perfection,  and  many  church  vestments  be- 
longing to  this  period  are  marvels  of  workmanship, 
one  of  the  most  celebrated  examples  being  the  superb 
manga  or  case  for  the  processional  cross,  presented 
by  Cardinal  Cisneros  to  the  Cathedral  of  Toledo. 
The  figures  in  this  pattern  are  outlined  in  gold  thread, 
something  after  the  fashion  of  cloisonne.  There  are 
four  scenes :  the  Ascension  of  the  Virgin,  the  Adora- 
tion of  the  Magi,  San  Ildefonso  cutting  off  the  veil 
of  Santa  Leocadia,  and  the  Martyrdom  of  San 
Eugenio. 

One  of  the  most  remarkable  forms  of  Spanish  em- 
broidery is  that  where  precious  stones  are  interwoven 
with  the  silken  threads.  The  mantles  and  dresses  of 
the  many  statues  of  the  Blessed  Virgin  are  sometimes 

299 


THE    SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

completely  covered  with  jewels,  and  the  effect  is  one 
of  rare  splendor. 

This  is  one  of  the  arts  of  Spain  which  have  never 
declined.  In  the  Middle  Ages  the  almost  harem-like 
seclusion  of  the  castles  was  enlivened  for  the  senoras 
and  their  attendant  damsels,  by  the  gentle  art  of 
needlework.  For  them  life  had  little  of  change, 
whether  their  lords  and  masters  were  frisking  across 
the  country  on  Rosinantes  or  Babiecas  harrying  the 
Moors,  or  sailing  the  high  seas  in  stately  galleons, 
seeking  American  gold,  and  the  fair  ladies  of  Castile 
and  Leon  stitched  their  hearts,  weary  with  waiting, 
into  their  embroideries. 

In  the  realm  of  ivory,  brass,  wrought  iron,  gold  and 
silver  work,  and  the  wood  carving  for  which  Spain 
has  ever  been  famous,  and,  indeed,  in  every  field  of 
Spanish  art  we  see  marvellous  development  since  the 
Spanish- American  War.  It  is  a  strange  sequence  of 
things  that  the  arts  which  declined  with  the  discovery 
of  America  and  the  gaining  of  the  colonies  should 
revive  with  the  loss  of  them,  yet  the  pursuit  of  riches 
and  that  of  the  fine  arts  seldom  go  hand  in  hand,  and 
the  lust  for  American  gold  in  the  sixteenth  century 
was  the  beginning  of  the  blunting  of  the  fine  sensi- 
bilities which  express  themselves  in  the  arts. 


300 


CHAPTER   XV 

INDUSTRIES 

THE  mountain  fastnesses  of  the  Pyrenees  are  full 
of  ores,  and  Spain's  wealth  in  mines  can  hardly 
be  overrated.  The  Phoenician  "  Tarshish  "  was  An- 
dalucia,  and  Strabo,  Ovid,  and  Pliny  wrote  of  the 
wonders  of  Spanish  mines.  King  Solomon,  who  en- 
joyed all  the  good  things  of  the  earth  "  had  at  sea  a 
navy  of  Tarshish:  .  .  .  once  in  three  years  came  the 
navy  of  Tarshish  bringing  gold  and  silver." 

While  lead,  zinc,  silver,  sulphur,  and  pyrites  (used 
in  the  manufacture  of  sulphuric  acid)  abound,  the 
quicksilver  mines  are  of  the  greatest  interest,  and  of 
this  product  immense  quantities  are  exported  every 
year. 

In  the  mines  huge  vaulted  passages  diverge  in  every 
direction,  lighted  only  by  the  pale  light  of  the  miner's 
lamps.  In  these  galleries  a  crowd  of  laborers  toil  in- 
cessantly, their  gigantic  shadows  dancing  in  the  dim 
light,  their  shouts  echoing  to  the  accompaniment  of 
creaking  trolley  wheels.  From  the  sides  of  the  gal- 
leries comes  the  sound  of  dull,  regular  blows,  and  on 

301 


THE    SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

going  to  the  openings  which  are  scattered  irregularly 
along  the  galleries,  small  groups  of  men  can  be  seen 
in  their  illuminated  caverns,  tearing  out  the  ore,  or 
cinnabar,  with  their  picks.  When  one  of  these  men 
stops  to  rest  he  trembles  with  the  palsy  characteris- 
tic of  mercurial  poisoning.  A  miner  cannot  work  in 
these  mines  for  any  length  of  time  without  grave 
danger  to  health,  as  the  air  is  vitiated  with  mercurial 
vapors  and  dust,  and  the  various  forms  of  mercurial 
poisoning  soon  appear,  to  shorten  his  life,  or  render 
him  incapable  of  labor  after  a  few  years  spent 
underground. 

The  reduction  of  the  ore  and  the  handling  of  the 
metal  are  no  less  dangerous  than  its  production.  The 
cinnabar  is  placed  in  immense  retorts,  and  there  sub- 
jected to  intense  heat  to  drive  off  the  mercury  in 
the  form  of  vapor.  From  'these  retorts  earthenware 
condensers  arise,  branching  off  into  pipes  which  com- 
municate with  each  other.  Here  the  mercury  is  con- 
densed and  flows  as  a  silvery  liquid  from  small  holes 
in  the  under  surface  of  the  pipes  into  suitable  recep- 
tacles. In  the  pipes,  however,  is  left  a  thick  deposit 
of  sooty  matter  which  must  from  time  to  time  be 
cleaned  out,  this  work  being  done,  as  a  rule,  by  boys 
of  from  twelve  to  fifteen  years  old. 

Mining  schools  have  been  established  in  Spain,  the 
best  being  those  of  Almaden  and  Madrid,  and  much 
money  has  been  invested  by  private  enterprise  to 

302 


INDUSTRIES 

develop  the  mining  industry,  as  the  government  mo- 
nopoly of  mines  ceased  in  1820.  To-day  Spain  sup- 
plies England  with  practically  all  the  mercury  used 
in  the  British  Isles. 

The  Spanish  miners  are  a  hardy,  reckless  crew, 
and  brave  all  dangers  with  a  fortitude  really  remark- 
able. They  climb  like  cats,  scaling  almost  perpen- 
dicular walls  of  rough  granite,  with  bare  hands  and 
feet,  and  utterly  regardless  of  the  ladders.  A  rather 
characteristic  story  is  told  of  two  miners  who  quar- 
relled while  in  the  mine  and  decided  to  seek  daylight 
and  fight  it  out.  The  first  skipped  up  the  ladder,  but 
the  second  called,  "  Pero,  senor,  I  am  too  weak  to 
climb;  do  you  wind  me  up  in  the  bucket,"  with  per- 
fect confidence  in  the  other's  honor.  Nor  was  this 
misplaced,  for  Pitman  Number  One  hauled  him  up 
with  extra  care.  "  Muy  gracias,  senor,  now  let  us 
fight,"  said  Number  Two  politely  as  he  stepped  from 
the  bucket.  They  fought,  knives  being  the  accepted 
weapon  for  the  duello  in  that  part  of  Spain.  One 
man's  fine  Toledo  knife  was  engraved,  "  Do  not  draw 
me  without  cause,  nor  sheathe  me  without  honor!" 
The  other,  a  short,  thick  knife,  keen  as  a  razor,  said, 
"  Bigger  knife,  bigger  coward." 

An  interested  ring  of  bystanders  was  formed, 
and  the  two  fought  to  a  finish,  for  the  Span- 
iard scorns  the  modern  duelling  code,  where  honor 
is  satisfied  with  a  single  drop  of  blood.  The  miner 

303 


THE     SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

who  had  so  carefully  pulled  up  his  antagonist  as 
deftly  slit  him  in  the  ribs,  and  he  fell,  apparently 
mortally  wounded.  Some  of  his  friends  carried  him 
to  the  hospital,  and  others  concealed  the  victor;  for 
the  authorities  discourage  these  combats  as  much  as 
possible,  though  their  attempts  to  bring  the  com- 
batants to  justice  are  usually  futile  on  account  of  the 
hindrances  put  in  their  way  by  the  friends  of  both  the 
victor  and  the  vanquished.  In  this  particular  in- 
stance the  wounded  man  positively  refused  to  tell 
the  name  of  his  assailant,  and  the  latter  easily 
escaped. 

Agriculture  has  been  given  considerable  attention 
by  the  Government  of  late,  and  it  may  have  more 
effect  when  the  unhappy  "  powers  that  be,"  of  this 
somewhat  difficult  land  lo  manage,  succeed  in  con- 
vincing the  farmer  classes'  that  the  ghosts  of  their 
ancestors  could  not  possibly  object  to  their  exchang- 
ing for  a  modern  plough  the  forked  sticks  with  which 
they  now  scratch  up  the  ground. 

Too  much  attention  cannot  be  given  to  the  subject, 
for  great  fortunes  can  be  made  in  the  raising  of  palms 
alone.  There  are  near  Elche  palm  groves  than  which 
it  is  impossible  to  think  of  anything  finer.  Great 
forests  of  the  mighty  trees  rise,  sometimes  sixty  feet 
in  height,  their  splendid  serrated  leaves  like  gigantic 
fans,  forming  a  dense  shade.  From  the  trees  hang 
huge  bunches  of  the  fruit,  golden  upon  the  brilliant 

304 


INDUSTRIES 

orange-hued  stems,  against  the  vivid  sapphire  of  the 
skies. 

Besides  the  dates,  which  are  of  the  finest  quality, 
and  of  which  every  year  this  one  orchard  supplies 
over  seventy-five  thousand  dollars'  worth,  the  leaves 
are  bleached  and  sold  ,f or  use  in  the  Holy  Week  ser- 
vices. Millions  of  them  are  used  on  Palm  Sunday, 
and  many  are  used  to  put  over  the  balconies  of  Span- 
ish houses  to  ward  off  lightning,  over  ten  thousand 
dollars'  worth  being  sold  each  year  for  this  purpose 
in  Elche  alone.  The  defective  leaves  are  chopped  up 
and  sold  to  adulterate  the  tobacco  used  in  making 
cigarettes. 

The  gathering  of  the  date  harvest  is  most  interest- 
ing. The  dates  are  in  perfection  during  the  month 
of  January,  and  the  impish  little  hortelanos  who 
gather  them  climb  like  monkeys  up  the  trunks,  no 
easy  job,  since  these  rise  into  the  air  straight  as  ship 
masts  and  without  a  branch  to  aid  the  climber.  At 
the  top  the  pickers  pass  a  rope  about  their  waists  and 
the  tree,  and  resting  upon  that,  fill  their  baskets 
swiftly  and  deftly,  lowering  them  to  the  ground  when 
filled,  and  drawing  them  up  again  when  empty. 

The  dates  are  so  plentiful  in  Elche  that  baskets  of 
them  are  set  out  before  every  peasant's  door,  and  the 
passer-by  may  eat  his  fill,  leaving  in  the  basket  a 
penny  in  payment.  It  is  a  commentary  upon  Span- 
ish honesty  that  the  penny  is  always  forthcoming. 

305 


THE    SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

This  province  of  the  eastern  coast  of  Spain  is  rich 
in  palms,  in  the  beautiful  pomegranate,  orange, 
flowers,  and  fruit,  and  so  fertile  that  the  old 
proverb  says:  "Rain  or  no  rain,  corn  grows  in 
Orihuela." 

The  huerta  about  Valencia  is  quite  the  most  fertile 
district  in  all  Europe,  and  cultivated  to  such  an  ex- 
tent that  one  sees  what  the  arid  portions  of  Spain 
could  become  under  irrigation.  The  Moorish  system 
of  irrigation  still  prevails  all  over  the  province.  The 
course  of  the  river  is  diverted  into  channels,  and  while 
miasma  from  the  stagnant  waters  is  said  to  be  very 
unhealthy,  the  soil  is  as  fertile  as  the  alluvial  lands 
along  the  course  of  the  Nile.  Crops  of  alfalfa  may 
be  mown  fifteen  times  in  one  year,  and  peas,  beans, 
and  other  vegetables  grow  most  luxuriantly,  while 
the  flowers  would  make  the  fortune  of  a  New  York 
florist,  were  there  the  Magic  Carpet  of  the  "  Arabian 
Nights  "  to  transport  them  in  a  single  night. 

The  peasants  of  the  huerta  in  their  sandals,  linen 
knee-breeches,  velvet  jackets,  and  knotted  kerchiefs 
around  their  heads,  have  been  termed  "  hombres  de  la 
manana"  but  why  hurry,  when  seeds  will  spring  up 
in  a  single  night  and  ripe  fruit  falls  into  the  open 
mouth?  In  reality,  they  are  sober  and  industrious, 
though  rather  inclined  to  disputing  about  the  water 
supply.  One  man  opens  his  sluice  before  his  proper 
time,  and  takes  water  belonging  to  his  neighbor  whose 

306 


INDUSTRIES 

turn  comes  first ;  or  he  may  keep  it  open  too  long  and 
rob  his  neighbor  whose  turn  is  next.  To  decide  such 
disputes  there  is  at  Valencia  a  tribunal  "  El  Tribunal 
de  Acequieros  de  la  Vega  de  Valencia,"  established 
about  970  by  Alhaken  Almonstansir  Billar,  and  is 
composed  of  the  eight  syndicos  of  the  eight  canals  of 
the  Vega.* 

In  Valencia  it  is  claimed  that  the  sun  does  not  rise 
in  blood  as  in  the  North,  nor  scorch  as  in  Andalusia, 
but  that  its  light  and  warmth  are  gently  diffused 
through  the  tranquil  and  balmy  air.  Along  the  Va- 
lencian  coasts  even  the  sea  is  a  reformed  character; 
it  is  blue  and  its  foam  white,  and  it  does  not  terrify. 
The  birds  sing  with  dulcet  notes  and  varied,  while 
the  breeze  caresses  by  day  as  by  night.  Delicious 
fruits  which  in  other  parts  of  the  world  are  in  season 
but  a  few  weeks,  in  Valencia  are  enjoyed  the  year 
around.  Not  only  are  the  flowers  and  herbs  deli- 
ciously  scented,  but  even  the  earth  exhales  a  delicate 
aroma.  Life  is  not  sad  and  dreary,  but  everything  is 
calm,  serene,  and  pleasant! 

Rice  fields  thrive  in  the  moist  atmosphere  of  Va- 
lencia. Mulberry  trees  are  cultivated,  their  peculiar 
tints  coloring  the  clouds  at  sunset,  while  waving  grain 
makes  golden  the  fields  and  plains;  melons  prosper, 
melons  which  melt  in  your  mouth  and  are  so  juicy 
that  the  peasants  are  said  to  use  them  for  three  things : 

*  See  Chapter  "  Andalucia." 

307 


THE     SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

"  pan,  el  vino,  y  lavar  "  (to  eat,  to  drink,  and  to  wash 
the  face). 

The  orange  groves  are  very  extensive,  the  value  of 
an  orchard  being  about  two  hundred  and  ten  dollars 
per  hanegada  or  space  for  twenty-three  trees.  The 
orange  groves  are  among  the  most  beautiful  sights  in 
Spanish  horticulture,  with  their  shining  green  leaves, 
their  fragrant,  white  blooms,  their  golden  globes  of 
delicious  fruit,  and  one  who  has  seen  an  orange  grove 
in  flower  never  loses  the  memory  of  the  sight. 

After  the  sixth  year  the  trees  begin  to  bear,  flower- 
ing in  March,  though  one  usually  sees  flowers  and 
ripe  fruit  on  the  same  tree.  The  oranges  are  picked 
between  October  and  March.  An  orchard  from  fif- 
teen to  twenty  years  old  may  be  leased  for  about 
twenty-five  dollars  per  acre. 

The  picking  season  is j  considered  by  the  pickers 
much  more  in  the  light  of  a  series  of  festivities  than  of 
a  period  of  hard  work.  In  the  groves  many  young 
girls  are  employed  as  pickers,  and  in  this  work  they 
are  particularly  skilful,  in  swiftness  surpassing  the 
men.  The  trees  are  low,  and  ladders  placed  against 
the  branches  enable  the  pickers  to  reach  the  fruit  with- 
out difficulty.  This  work  is  done  entirely  by  hand, 
the  picker  with  his  basket  swung  about  his  neck  by  a 
cord,  deftly  and  carefully  plucks  the  oranges,  one  at 
a  time,  and  without  bruising  or  otherwise  injuring 
them,  drops  them  into  his  basket.  Many  of  the  pickers 

308 


INDUSTRIES 

are  so  expert  that  it  seems  as  if  they  had  scarce 
mounted  the  ladder  before  their  baskets  are  filled. 

The  full  baskets  are  carried  to  sheds  where  the 
oranges  are  left  over  night  for  the  skins  to  harden  a 
little,  after  which  each  one  is  wrapped  in  soft  tissue 
paper.  Young  boys  and  girls  are  employed  for  this 
purpose,  and  they  soon  become  very  expert,  an  orange 
being  wrapped  with  but  a  twist  of  the  hand,  and 
packed  directly  in  a  wooden  box  for  shipment.  These 
boxes  contain  from  seven  hundred  to  ten  hundred 
oranges,  and  are  worth  about  six  dollars  to  the  im- 
porter. 

Spain  has  been  called  "  Land  of  the  Olive  and  the 
Vine,"  and  her  olives  are  no  less  valuable  than  her 
oranges  and  grapes.  How  beautiful  are  those  low 
growing  trees,  clustered  upon  the  hillsides,  looking 
like  round,  gray-green  balls !  Guide  books  and  pessi- 
mistic travellers  tell  us  that  the  Spaniards  do  not 
understand  the  cultivation  of  the  olive,  but  one 
scarcely  agrees  with  this  when  munching  the  delicious 
ripe  olives  some  thoughtful  innkeeper  has  put  into 
one's  lunch  basket,  a  requisite  of  Spanish  travel.  Mod- 
ern methods  might  —  no  doubt  would — make  the 
cultivation  of  the  olive  easier,  they  could  never  make 
the  product  finer.  One  queries  also  whether  the 
modern  appliances  for  lightening  labor  would  be  alto- 
gether beneficial  or  would  provide  such  healthful  em- 
ployment to  so  many  laborers  as  those  who  pick,  sort, 

309 


THE    SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

and  pickle  the  olives  or  press  them  in  the  oil  presses. 
The  Spanish  processes  are  simple  in  the  extreme.  For 
the  market  both  green  and  ripe  olives  are  used,  the 
green  being  picked  just  before  they  begin  to  turn  soft. 
For  pickling,  the  green  olives  are  soaked  for  a  short 
time  in  a  very  weak  solution  of  caustic  potash  to  soften 
the  skin  and  extract  the  bitterness ;  the  potash  is  then 
removed  by  frequent  washings  and  prolonged  soak- 
ing in  clear  water.  After  this  the  olives  are  placed  in 
brine,  at  first  very  weak,  but  rapidly  increased  in 
strength  by  the  addition  of  salt.  When  the  olives 
have  acquired  the  desired  salty  taste  they  are  packed 
in  barrels  and  sent  to  the  jobbers,  who  repack  some 
of  the  best  in  bottles  and  dispose  of  the  remainder  in 
bulk. 

For  oil  the  olives  are  carefully  picked,  dried  a  little, 
and  then  crushed  in  an  old-fashioned  stone  mill,  and 
the  pulp  compressed  to  extract  the  oil,  which  is  more 
or  less  mixed  with  watery  juices  and  pulp.  This  oil 
is  allowed  to  stand  for  one  month,  by  the  end  of  which 
time  most  of  the  refuse  has  gone  to  the  bottom.  The 
clear  oil  is  carefully  poured  off,  and  allowed  to  settle 
for  another  month,  when  the  process  is  repeated  for  a 
third  time,  and  the  oil  is  considered  fit  for  use.  The 
best  grades  of  oil  are  obtained  in  this  manner,  the  oil 
cleared  by  filtration  not  having  nearly  so  fine  a 
flavor,  nor  holding  its  color  so  well.  An  inferior  grade 
of  oil  is  obtained  by  boiling  the  compressed  pulp  and 

310 


At  the  Well 


In  the  Pyrenees 


INDUSTRIES 

the  sludge  from  the  settling  tanks,  and  skimming  off 
the  oil  as  it  rises  to  the  surface  of  the  water. 

Spanish  wines  are  light,  dry,  and  fine.  All  the 
world  knows  Amontillado,  that  peculiarly  dry  and 
perfect  sherry  of  Jerez,  with  its  almond-like  scent  and 
depajizo  hue.  The  red  Val  de  Penas  is  scarcely  less 
famous.  Spanish  sherry,  or  "  sack,"  was  most  highly 
recommended  by  that  lusty  connoisseur,  Sir  John 
Falstaff,  who  said  of  it,  "  A  good  sherris-sack  hath  a 
two-fold  operation  in  it.  It  ascends  me  into  the  brain. 
.  .  .  The  second  property  of  your  excellent  sherries 
is  the  warming  of  the  blood."  "  Rare  Ben  Jon- 
son,"  Beaumont  and  Fletcher,  and  many  others  of  the 
old  English  writers  wrote  glowingly  of  sack,  for  its 
charms  were  known  and  appreciated  in  England  as 
early  as  the  days  of  Henry  VII.  In  the  last  twenty 
years  the  exportation  has  been  more  than  doubled. 
The  wine  varies  little  in  flavor,  probably  because  it  is 
brought  up  as  are  Spanish  children,  by  hand.  The 
grapes  are  gathered  carefully,  sorted  and  spread  out 
upon  reed  mats  to  dry  in  the  sun,  according  to  the 
method  described  in  Hesiod.  The  grapes  are  then 
pressed,  and  every  particle  of  juice  is  extracted,  and 
the  must,  or  liquor,  obtained,  is  run  into  huge  vats 
to  ferment.  After  this  fermentation  is  completed, 
the  must  is  racked  from  the  lees  and  settled,  then 
left  to  stand  for  four  or  five  years.  It  is  then  clari- 
fied, and  has  added  to  it  a  very  small  quantity  of 

311 


THE    SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

madre  vino,  very  old  wine  which  imparts  its  rich 
flavor  to  the  new.  For  export,  two  per  cent  of 
brandy  is  also  added  and  the  sherry  is  ready  for  the 
market. 

In  Madrid  and  Jerez  there  are  excellent  schools  for 
wine-makers,  but  in  many  Spanish  towns  the  simplest 
methods  are  still  in  use.  In  Lerida  the  methods  are 
especially  primitive.  In  one  of  the  streets  one  finds 
a  wine  press  turned  by  men.  They  heap  up  the 
grapes  until  the  press  is  full,  then  they  turn  the  press 
with  one  or  more  long  poles,  and  the  juice  pours  out 
into  a  huge  tub.  How  strong  is  the  scent  in  the  air! 
And  the  most  delicious  muscatel  is  made  in  this 
manner. 

In  many  places  are  small  vineyards  which  produce 
enough  wine  for  the  local  trade,  after  such  primitive 
methods  as  these ;  and  in  these  places  a  pretty  custom 
is  that  any  one  may  help  himself  to  the  bunches  left 
hanging  on  the  vines  after  the  wine-making. 

Raisins  from  Spain  go  into  every  well  regulated 
mince  pie  or  plum  pudding  at  Christmas  time  in 
America,  the  finest  being  the  splendid  plump  Malagas 
of  which  statisticians  tell  us  the  thrilling  fact  that  over 
thirty  million  boxes  of  twenty-two  pounds  each  are 
exported  from  Spain  each  year.  Yet  when  one  stands 
in  a  vineyard  of  Malaga  grapes,  holding  a  great  lus- 
cious bunch  and  devouring  the  juicy  grapes  one  by 
one,  one  wonders  how  a  Spaniard  could  make  of  such 


INDUSTRIES 

delicious  morsels  anything  so  commonplace  as  raisins 
or  wine ! 

It  is  something  of  a  commentary  upon  the  Spanish 
character  and  its  mighty  patience,  to  look  into  the 
cork  industry  as  carried  on  in  the  various  portions  of 
the  kingdom,  notable  forests  being  at  Almoraima.* 

To  the  average  American  it  would  seem  monstrous 
to  engage  in  an  industry  which  took  thirty  years  to 
perfect ;  yet  the  Spaniard  cultivates  the  cork  tree,  with 
his  customary  serenity,  sure  that  in  about  that  length  of 
time  strippings  from  the  bark  will  be  really  fit  to  use. 

When  a  tree  is  fifteen  years  old  the  first  stripping 
occurs.  This  operation  takes  place  in  the  spring,  and 
must  be  skilfully  done,  as  the  sap  is  rising,  and  the 
amount  and  quality  of  the  cork  the  tree  will  yield  de- 
pends upon  the  care  with  which  the  demasclage  is 
executed. 

The  outer  layer  of  the  bark  removed  is  put  back 
and  fastened  about  the  trunk  with  wires  and  left  for 
several  years,  for  the  denuded  trunks  are  likely  to  be 
injured  in  the  hot  winds.  A  forest  fire  starting  in  a 
demasclaged  grove  is  likely  to  sweep  the  entire  forest, 
leaving  only  the  bare  and  blackened  stumps. 

The  cork  obtained  at  the  first  stripping  is  used  only 
for  tanning;  the  second  growth  is  still  too  coarse  to 
use  for  anything  except  floats  for  fish  nets,  in  life  pre- 

*  The  American  Government  is  trying  to  introduce  the  Spanish  cork  oak 
into  this  country,  many  trees  having  been  planted  in  the  experiment  stations 
in  California  and  Florida. 

313 


THE    SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

servers,  and  so  on,  but  the  quality  of  the  cork  pro- 
duced improves  with  each  demasclage  until  the  tree, 
having  reached  the  tender  age  of  one  hundred  years, 
begins  to  be  a  rather  good  investment.  The  cork  may 
then  be  removed  every  eight  or  ten  years,  and  an  acre 
of  cork  in  full  production  will  net  a  yearly  income  of 
about  two  dollars!  The  income  from  one  tree  is  ap- 
proximately five  cents  a  year,  after  all  expenses  have 
been  paid.  We  are  told  not  to  despise  the  day  of  small 
things,  but  it  would  seem  that  this  is  small  remun- 
eration for  the  labor  involved,  although  the  work  is 
not  severe.  When  cut,  the  cork  rolls  up  into  tubes  the 
size  of  the  trunk  of  the  tree  which  produced  it.  It  is 
then  pressed  into  sheets,  boiled,  a  process  which  in- 
creases the  bulk  at  least  one  fifth  and  makes  the  cork 
more  elastic,  and  is  finally  scraped  to  remove  the  crust, 
when  the  product  is  ready  for  use. 

The  amassing  of  great  fortunes  in  cork  would  be  a 
slow  proceeding,  but  a  living  is  sure,  the  demand  for 
the  product  being  far  greater  than  the  supply ;  and  the 
ocupation  is  both  healthful  and  pleasant,  workers 
being  in  the  open  with  plenty  of  fresh  air  and  sunshine. 

Perhaps  twentieth  century  enterprise  might  com- 
bine with  the  cork  industry  the  raising  of  swine.  Pigs 
forage  under  the  trees  of  the  magnificent  apple  or- 
chards of  southern  Missouri,  and  happy  little  porkers 
may  yet  frisk  curly  tails  through  the  broad  sylvan 
glades  of  Spain's  beautiful  cork  forests. 

314 


INDUSTRIES 

At  the  present  time  over  two  million  hogs  are  raised 
yearly  in  Spain,  and  those  of  Estremadura  are  noted 
as  producing  the  most  wonderful  hams  in  the  world. 
Anyone  who  has  ever  tasted  these  toothsome  morsels 
will  feel  that  more  should  be  produced,  for  as  yet  there 
are  not  enough  raised  for  home  consumption,  and  they 
would  certainly  make  a  valuable  item  for  export. 

Segovia  was  the  centre  of  the  world's  woollen  trade 
in  1550.  Spanish  wool  was  famous  in  the  Middle 
Ages;  and,  despite  all  we  hear  about  the  Spaniards' 
hopeless  indolence  in  matters  of  industry,  Spain  to- 
day raises  more  sheep  in  proportion  to  its  population 
than  any  country  in  Europe.  The  woollen  mills  of 
Valencia,  Murcia,  and  Andalucia  employed  at  the 
last  accounting  six  hundred  and  sixty-two  thousand 
spindles  and  eighty-eight  hundred  looms. 

Some  of  the  manufactured  woollens  are  exquisitely 
soft  in  texture,  and  the  Palencian  blankets  are  coveted 
by  all  travellers  for  their  warmth  and  lightness,  while 
there  has  scarcely  been  a  visitor  in  Spain  who  did  not 
wish  to  possess  himself  of  one  of  the  wonderful  capas 
which  every  Spanish  cavalier  displays,  made  from 
the  soft,  fine  wool  of  the  famous  long-haired  merino 
sheep  which  graze  upon  the  great  plains  of  the  dry 
table-lands. 

It  is  a  curious  sight  to  see  these  flocks  of  sheep,  the 
shepherd  walking  ahead,  carrying  in  his  hand  his  staff 
of  office,  shaped  somewhat  like  an  Arab's  spear,  sing- 

315 


THE    SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

ing  a  melancholy  lilt,  a  sort  of  crooning  song,  scarcely 
turning  his  head;  and  the  sheep,  as  did  those  of  Pal- 
estine so  long  ago,  "  hear  his  voice  and  follow  him." 

The  silk  industry  is  scarcely  less  interesting.  In 
Moorish  times  the  beauties  of  the  harem  were  wrapped 
in  silken  tissues  which  were  the  envy  of  the  feminine 
world.  The  silkworm  was  introduced  into  Spain  hun- 
dreds of  years  ago,  and  has  since  fed  upon  the  mul- 
berry leaves  with  that  good  digestion  which  waits  upon 
appetite.  These  trees  were  grown  in  the  south  and 
cared  for  by  the  women,  and  the  spun  silks  of  Spain 
are  among  her  most  beautiful  products.  Striped 
skirts,  velvet  jackets,  fringed  manias,  these  are  within 
the  reach  of  even  the  down-trodden  peasant ;  and  the 
wonderful  silk  laces  of  Barcelona  and  other  Spanish 
cities  have  been  the  cause  of  raptures  in  all  feminine 
travellers  in  Spain.  The  trade  in  silk  and  lace  is 
steadily  increasing. 

Cotton,  though  of  good  quality,  is  not  yet  pro- 
duced in  quantity  sufficient  to  meet  the  demand  for 
home  consumption.  Conditions  are  favorable  for  its 
cultivation  were  there  sufficient  interest  to  capitalize 
companies  for  its  manufacture. 

The  raising  of  garbanzos,  those  delicious  beans 
which  form  the  staple  of  Spanish  diet,  might  form  an 
excellent  industry  if  carried  on  systematically.  They 
are  easily  grown,  yield  enormous  crops,  and  can  be 
cooked  in  countless  ways,  forming  delicious  and  nutri- 

316 


INDUSTRIES 

tious  foods.  Spain  has  been  called  "  la  tierra  de  los 
garbanzos,"  and  the  Spanish  housewife  succeeds  in 
making  out  of  these  beans  soups,  and  the  puchero 
which  is  served  at  the  royal  table  every  day  as  it  is  in 
the  hut  of  the  poorest  laborer. 

Within  the  last  few  years  the  exporting  of  fresh 
fruits  has  been  made  profitable;  and  besides  those 
oranges  and  lemons  for  which  rang  "  the  bells  of  St. 
Clemens  "  in  our  childhood  days,  there  are  yearly  ex- 
ported plums,  grapes,  tomatoes,  melons,  asparagus, 
and  early  vegetables.  In  the  famous  Covent  Garden 
Market  in  London  one  sees  often  the  sign  "  The  Best 
Fruit  and  Vegetables,  Spanish  Melons,  and  Toma- 
toes," and  these  products  are  much  sought  after  by 
the  wealthy  and  aristocratic  Londoners. 

Rather  interesting  are  numerous  smaller  industries 
which  could  be  wondefully  developed  with  a  little 
capital.  Donkey's  milk  is  now  regarded  as  very 
wholesome,  and  in  Spain  the  local  donkey  dairyman 
brings  a  fresh  milch  ass  to  your  door,  and  then  and 
there  milks  the  thin,  sweet  draught  for  the  invalid's 
breakfast.  An  asses'  dairy  in  Hyde  Park,  London, 
does  a  thriving  trade,  and  in  those  Spanish  cities  like 
Cartagena,  Malaga,  and  Seville  the  climate  of  which 
is  so  perfect  as  to  lure  invalids,  the  same  industry 
opens  rich  possibilities. 

Sugar  cane  is  a  recent  experiment,  the  late  Mar- 
quis del  Duero  having  planted  fields  of  cane  on  his 

317 


THE    SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

Malaga  estates,  and  the  industry  is  steadily  progress- 
ing. So  also  is  the  cultivation  of  tobacco,  which  com- 
modity formerly  was  entirely  imported  as  raw  ma- 
terial for  the  manufacture  of  cigars  and  cigarettes. 

*  Tobacco  's  but  an  Indian  weed,"  and  since  it  was 
first  imported  from  the  Indies,  the  Spaniards  have 
been  its  slaves.  They  smoke  everywhere.  For  the 
rich  the  cigarito  is  the  dessert  of  the  dinner,  for  the 
poor  it  may  be  the  dinner  itself.  A  Spanish  writer 
says  that  real  progress  in  Spain  will  not  begin  until  a 
decree  is  promulgated  against  the  cloak,  the  knife, 
and  the  cigarette,  but  the  result  of  such  a  decree 
would  be  another  revolution.  Even  the  children 
smoke,  though  the  current  notion  that  Spanish  ladies 
smoke  is  erroneous. 

In  the  days  of  the  colonies  the  raising  of  tobacco 
was  prohibited  in  Spain  in  order  to  encourage  the 
Cuban  planters,  but  now  planters  are  beginning  to 
grow  it,  though  not  in  sufficient  quantities  for  the 
manufacturers . 

The  largest  of  these  tobacco  factories  are  at  Seville, 
and  are  counted  among  the  sights  which  the  traveller 
must  see,  and  of  them  every  traveller  has  a  different 
opinion.  One  tells  us  that  these  factories  are  stifling 
places  where  the  workers,  women,  go  about  half  clad ; 
another  regards  them  as  in  every  way  model  hives  of 
industry.  In  reality,  the  Seville  Tobacco  Factory  is  a 
large  building  with  twenty-eight  patios  and  many 

318 


INDUSTRIES 

galleries.  Its  sanitary  conditions  are  better  than  those 
prevailing  in  most  factories.  The  workrooms  are  light 
and  airy,  cool,  and  not  overcrowded.  Each  gallery 
has  a  little  altar,  upon  which  is  the  statue  of  some 
favorite  saint.  Many  of  the  women  have  brought 
their  babies  with  them,  and  pause  in  their  work  to 
nurse  the  little  ones  or  rock  the  tiny  cradles  with  their 
feet,  while  their  deft  hands  are  manipulating  the 
fragrant  leaves. 

The  cigarreras  are  a  class  by  themselves.  Thou- 
sands of  them  are  employed  in  the  large  factories  of 
Seville  alone,  and  they  form  a  somewhat  turbulent 
portion  of  the  population.  They  have  their  opinions 
and  are  strong  in  prejudice.  The  marriage  of  the 
Infanta  being  unpopular  with  them  a  few  years  ago, 
they  refused  to  use  the  theatre  tickets  sent  them  by 
the  authorities  in  honor  of  the  event.  They  have  not 
the  slightest  hesitation  in  expressing  their  opinions 
upon  every  subject,  and  when  these  opinions  are 
shouted  at  the  top  of  thousands  of  shrill  feminine 
voices,  it  is  not  surprising  that  they  receive  some  at- 
tention, and  lawmakers  have  not  infrequently  found 
it  expedient  to  humor  them  to  the  extent  of  with- 
drawing unpopular  measures. 

The  "  Carmen "  of  Madame  Calve  is  a  work 
of  art  of  such  peculiar  charm  that  it  has  created  the 
part  of  the  cigarette  girl  to  all  eternity.  She  has  ideal- 
ized the  type,  minimizing  its  faults  and  its  coarseness. 

319 


THE    SPANIARD    AT    HOME 

The  real  Carmen  is  an  ordinary  working-girl,  undis- 
ciplined and  passionate,  but  a  deft,  skilful  worker  and 
a  thrifty  wage  earner. 

Many  other  Spanish  industries  are  on  the  mend. 
Cutlery  and  the  making  of  arms  improve  from  year 
to  year.  Gunpowder  struck  a  blow  at  the  manufac- 
ture of  swords  and  daggers,  long  a  famous  industry, 
a  "Toledo  blade"  being  the  joy  of  every  swash- 
buckler on  the  continent;  but  knives  of  wonderfully 
tempered  steel  are  still  made  in  large  quantities. 
There  is  a  revival  also  of  that  Cordovan  leather- work 
which  was  the  finest  in  Europe  in  the  sixteenth  and 
seventeenth  centuries. 

Watches  too  are  manufactured,  and  the  inlays  of 
gold  and  silver  on  copper  or  steel  are  regaining  their 
mediaeval  reputation;  indeed,  there  is  scarcely  a 
branch  of  industry  which  has  not  taken  to  itself  an  im- 
petus since  the  close  of  the  late  war. 

The  future  of  Spain  lies  in  her  industrial  arts. 
Decadent  Spain  is  a  thing  of  the  past,  and  the  remedy 
of  all  the  country's  woes  lies  within. 

Whatever  the  causes  of  the  decline  in  Spain  since 
the  period  of  her  greatest  power,  the  country  now  is 
taking  her  place  in  the  march  of  time.  The  factors 
which  will  work  together  for  her  ultimate  success  are 
manifold.  Spain  has  now  no  colonies  to  drain  her 
homes  of  the  best  young  blood.  The  Government  has 
spent  vast  sums  in  harbor  improvements  and  to  in- 

320 


INDUSTRIES 

crease  transportation  facilities  all  over  the  kingdom. 
With  lowered  taxes,  giving  increased  capital  for  in- 
vestment by  the  people  themselves,  the  proposed 
changes  in  the  law  of  inheritance,  and  greater  facili- 
ties for  irrigation,  half  the  battle  for  prosperity  would 
be  over.  The  stability  of  the  Government  gives  the 
remainder ;  and  with  revolution  at  an  end,  a  king  upon 
the  throne  who  has  the  love  and  respect  of  all  his 
people,  an  heir  to  the  throne  assured,  industrial  Spain 
takes  courage  and  looks  up.  "  Spain  for  the  Span- 
iards," is  her  motto.  She  has  learned  the  lesson  that 
"  home-keeping  hearts  are  happiest,"  and  henceforth 
will  work  for  the  welfare  and  happiness  of  the  Span- 
iard at  home. 


321 


12Jan'§2U> 

20J«l'5e  DS 


3  LD 
MAR  24  1959 


'65 -4  p 


DEC  5     1968 
RECEIVED 


LOAM  DJEPT. 


IV!  r.  i 


3787° 


u 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 


